AF showed up last night. I’m really trying to focus on the fact that it could be worse. We could be going through this without DD in the picture. That would be much, much worse. But you know, I’m tired of telling myself that and tired of hearing it.
The reality is that we really want another baby. So, it still hurts, it still sucks, it is still painfully disappointing. I still feel emotionally raw and fragile all at the same time. I am still going to want to scream at the next person who asks me when we will be providing DD with a sibling.
The funny thing about hope is that it is a double edged sword. It can comfort you and pain you at the same time. Hope is what I’ve lived on for the past three weeks… the past 2 years. Today, it feels like a bleeding wound that won’t heal. We can stop the infertility treatment, but unless we stop having intercourse or go on birth control, every month, we will still hope. Which means that every month, a potential for disappointment however slight. I can’t help but wonder how long it will take for hope to finally die and the wound to start healing.