A family. My own family. I almost had it. I was so so close. I had a husband who loved me more than anything in the world, and we were trying to expand. It's all I've ever wanted; to be married, to be a mother, to be content. When TJ and I had been dating for just one month I told him I wanted children. I've wanted children for as long as I can remember. When my sister came along it was the most amazing gift. To be able to help raise her, to take care of her. To feed her, to coo at her. To make her giggle. Even before TJ I knew what I wanted. And when TJ did come along, it made my dream that much better. Knowing he was the one I wanted that life with. He made that life dream perfection. All else was secondary. It was the two of us, loving each other the best way we could. And it worked. As soon as we were married I begged for them. He wanted to wait to settle in more, to have some more time together. It was so hard to accept. But I wanted him to want it, too. So I waited. Sometimes not so patiently. Our friends would get pregnant and I waited. I got used to waiting. After a while, I tried to forget about it temporarily. To enjoy what we had. We had a great marriage. We had lots of fun together. I tried to remind myself not to push any of that way. To not wish the day away on a future I knew would come soon enough. Finally, the day I'd waited for my entire life came; hearing him say those words... that he was ready to start a family with me. I think it was the best day of my life. And so that was life for the next 8 months. Paying attention to my ovulation schedule, propping a pillow under my butt after sex. Eating healthy, taking prenatal vitamins, exercising, one cup of caffeine a day. I know I could have continued to have a drink or two here and there, but I didn't want to risk it. And then came the disappointment. Every month tracking my schedule, waiting to see if I would be late. Paying attention to everything my body did or didn't do. I would constantly press on the sides of my breasts to see if they were sore. Was I extra emotional? TJ did his research, I wasn't surprised. He had questions for me; had my sense of smell changed? Reasons why my breasts would be sore or at what time the morning sickness might kick in. Watching him so excited and prepared made me so happy. This was really going to happen for us. Finally. All I'd ever wanted and it was almost here. I took pregnancy tests every month. I bought the early result fancy ones just in case. And every month, nothing. Always the little minus symbol, or the blue line, or the pink line. Or the pink negative. So many different tests, so many different ways for it to tell me that my dream hadn't come true yet.
All of it is over. Gone. And I thought seeing a negative result each month was the end of the world. Now I have nothing. No future with TJ. No family of our own. I don't think I'll ever get to be a mother. I talked after TJ died about adopting or going to a sperm bank on my own, but I don't want to do this alone. I want a happy family. I just can't see it happening for me. I feel like I"m being punished. What could I have ever done to have been dealt this blow? I wanted TJ. I wanted his babies to grow inside of me. I wanted to watch him put together the crib. I wanted to watch him playing with them out in the grass. When I tell my friends that I won't have that, they tell me that you never know what the future will bring. That is true. I just can't see it. I have this horrible feeling that I don't deserve it. That the universe it trying to tell me something by giving me what I wanted and then taking it all away. I almost had it all. Almost. This is the fucking worst. I would kill to be a mother. A mother to our children. It feels completely hopeless. Like I don't even have a uterus or something. I already feel barren. So completely empty and useless.