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18 months. 18 opportunities to make it happen, and 18 realizations it didn’t. When Dave and I first ventured into trying to have kids, my expectations and hopes were very high. After about six months, my expectations dropped, but my hope remained steady. That is until last month. When I realized I had again failed to get pregnant, my hopes abandoned me. My mom asked me how things were going a few days later. I said, “I’m sorry, Mom. Looks like you won’t be getting any grandchildren.” I felt terrible about this, because part of the reason for her moving up here was to be close to me and her future grandchild. I am getting older and my body has been indicating of late we perhaps waited too long in trying to have kids. It’s not so much all the money and effort we put into this, but spending the rest of my days, however long that may be, regretting. Adoption is not something we’re interested in, at least not at this point. Me, I could go either way, but Dave would rather have his own than adopt. So here I sit again, having failed my husband, my parents and me. Some might say I have nothing to feel guilty for. But it is my body, and I’m the one with the burden, regardless of whether or not I have control over it. Now here’s where things get interesting, and where my natural optimism comes into play. Last month, and with my emotions in better check, my parents took us out to eat. When we finished we followed a couple carrying a little one who couldn’t have been more than a month old. My mom whispers to me, “Do you have a hard time seeing people with babies?” I smiled and said, “Not at all. I enjoy seeing them, because I think, ‘I want one of those.’ When I spoke to you about it last time, my emotions were driven more by hormones. After a few days, I always think, ‘Now I have another month and another opportunity to make it happen.’” Getting older or not, my body is still functioning. 18 months isn’t a long time, especially for those of you who’ve tried even longer. Mostly it’s the ups and downs my body and mind put me through that get tiresome. I’ve tried 18 times begging God to take away this desire if it’s not meant to happen. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life in regret. It’s far too short to put myself and my family through that. So far, though, He has yet to answer that prayer. Why, I can only guess. It could be because we will eventually succeed, or He could have something else entirely in mind. Now I just have to wait for my emotions to catch up with my brain and my faith. They will. They always do. If you haven’t yet, read PlannerDan ’s latest entry "Invalid Entry" . His words helped me put all this into a better perspective. Thanks, Dan. |