I'm just wasting my days waiting to see if the Clomid will work, or not.
And with as much free time as I have I am finding it hard to do the things I ought to.
I spend to much time online, looking at forums and websites.
Watching shows to torture myself.
Like A Baby Story, knowing that I may never carry a baby.
Like Bringing Home Baby, knowing I may never have one to bring home.
But I wish, and sometimes they have a woman who had suffered for her child, a woman who adopted, and I feel at ease. These episodes the tears are not of sadness and envy, but joy. How sweet they finally got their baby, how lucky for them.
I should write, I should clean, I should do the dishes, I have so much free time...
but my life is on standstill.
Waiting for what may never come.
My life is looking forward to taking pills and (loosely) scheduled intercourse. Taking my temperature each morning and logging it in, then analyzing. It's reading the same information over and over again, as if I can divine something new from it if I try hard enough. It's dreaming of what the nursery will look like, wondering how my body will change, if I'll have a little A- or a little me (Of which I don't care, I am just curious. I just want a live baby, that's all I'm asking for.) This is my life. I wake up, log in my temp, check the forums, check the blogs, and then wander off to try and find a meaning in it all.
Yeah, it sounds like I may have hit rock bottom... but if I have a baby in the end then I'll be soaring high, fuck the sadness, the pain, of the past year. I'll have achieved my dream. And then, thie "obsession" as it could well be called, will have served me well. But if it doesn't, if there never is another baby, what then? Will this have been a wasted year and a half? Will this time be regretted? No, I'll never regret trying, it's the not trying that I would regret.
But still, I wonder, what will become of me. I don't live much outside this bubble I am in. This is my world right now... my whole world.