My name is not Myrtle

Fertility is a sore subject around my house these days. I guess not really sore as much as a seriously depressing and tumultuous subject that has deeply ingrained itself in my day to day. When I go out I see pregnant people everywhere. And I have made a victory in my life - I am no longer angry at all the pregnant people - just insanely jealous and sad that it is not meant for me at this time. I love seeing all the babies and holding their sweet, tiny bodies. Sometimes it even seems as though it would be nice to take a baby home after a miraculously short gestation, without doing 9 months of work beforehand.

For me it seems as though I must put in double duty, I must go through a serious 18 month to 2 year process of finding the problem spots in my fertility and addressing them one by one. I admit I only have one point of reference for this and now the continued struggle to get pregnant and have a child. We're 7 months in and it does not seem as though it is looking up. We know (the Husband and I) that it will happen when it is meant to. But in my life I find it hard to be patient and wait for blessings to be bestowed. I want them signed, sealed, delivered - Yesterday.

Today I have an appointment to find out the next step in the process. I'll be interested to find out what I'll be in for. It could be more waiting, it could be tests, or medications, or who knows what. We'll see what happens and in the meantime I will remain, as I have heard doctors say in the past, cautiously optomistic. I will also refrain from referring to myself as Fertile Myrtle.