I've been wanting to be pregnant for the last year. I'm the perfect age, I'm married, in a semi-stable financial setup, and I have baby fever that won't let my mind rest. There have been a couple of what some may call "scares", though I saw them as flickers of hope that were soon stomped on by the foot of reality. Every time dear old Flow came to visit, I rolled my eyes in utter annoyance. Why must I get a monthly bloody reminder that I don't have what I want.
It's bad enough that I'm not pregnant, but I have to pass by cute baby clothing because I don't have a baby to dress. Not that playing dress up with a baby is the best part of parenting; the clothes are just so cute and small! My heart skips a beat every time I see the classic white onesie or a frilly pink dress. Then I have to see moms pushing their children in strollers through the park, as if completely happy with their lives. I'm not ignorant to think parenting is easy or makes you happy every day, but I know it's the most rewarding thing a woman could ever do.
The truth is, I'm a few days late this month. I was supposed to start April 3rd and it is now the 7th and Flow isn't here yet. Part of me wants to start planning ways to tell my husband and what stroller to buy. Another part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for that bloody reminder. I am scared to get excited because anytime I do, my dreams are shattered. I have been praying for this so passionately and I feel guilty for feeling excited until I know for sure. My anxiety is through the roof right now and I know I can't take a test for another few days, so it's just a waiting game at this point.
So here I sit, waiting for that shoe, waiting for that reminder.
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