I truly wish I were built like some other women. Other bloggers I follow. Other attitudes, beliefs and outlooks. I’ve even tried. But it was more work than anything positive and though it’s not the work that bothers me, it was the work to portray an image which is not true.
I am incredibly grateful for many things in my life. My husband. His family. A recent rekindling of sorts with my only sister. I am grateful for our comfortable home on a little bit of land. For a small handful of good friends. And I am grateful to live in a free nation.
I may have more than so many. But it is NOT, nor it ever will be, well with my soul that I’ve – and thereby we’ve – been denied a family of our own. I do not wish to live out the rest of my days in a miserable slump, but I will not pretend that my life is complete.
I find no matter the effort, I am not able to move forward solely in gratitude for all that I have, but rather most days I trudge through grand disappointment in that which I do not.
There are days I wonder where the other people like me are. The ones who things didn’t work out for and who are damn mad about it. Those days I wonder why the only people I run into, read blogs from or see in the news are those who kept the faith, stayed positive and came to realize their dreams. Go ahead and tell me that if I would change my outlook and be positive that my rotten uterus will just magically create our perfectly healthy child. Newsflash: A change of outlook will not change the reality.
We did ALL of the positive thinking, the keeping of the faith, the praying. For years. And then the doctors said it would never be. And now what? I should live in constant bliss waiting for that “bigger plan?” I should accept my consolation prize as the best Aunt ever to walk the Earth and be satisfied for the rest of my days? I should watch my husband dote over our nieces, nephew and godchildren and ignore the tears for the father he desperately wanted to be and should have been, smile and think how lucky we are?
What a load of crap.