Devil, thy name is Facebook

Ok, I don't really hate it all the time but for certain very sensitive subjects such as babies --- my nemesis. I can't tell you how many times I've actually broken down and cried from reading yet another post announcing that a friend, relative or acquaintance of ours is expecting a baby. I think the total number of babies conceived and/or born to people we know in the time that we have been trying to conceive has literally reached close to 40, maybe more. In most cases, we are sincerely happy for the couple. Sad for us, but happy for them. In some cases, we are not. We all know those people who really shouldn't have kids for one reason or another and yet, they do. Painful. And then come the baby photos. They are all so adorable, so precious --- and they are all not ours. First, we smile, we exclaim over their perfect little face or tiny little hands and feet, revel in how much he/she looks like daddy/mommy, consider the name choice, say it aloud, trying out the syllables. Then, the tears come. Usually one lone tear at first, but it's the breaking of the dam and you try to hold it back but it just won't be held. When's it going to our turn? What did we do in another life to deserve hardships like ours? Wouldn't we be good parents? Wouldn't our babies be adored and loved beyond measure? How much longer do we have to do this? When will we have our happy ending? Will we EVER have our happy ending?

I said from the beginning that this blog was a space for me to say what I wanted to, what I needed to, without reservation or apology. If you are reading this and you find yourself thinking, "Oh my God, I've had a baby since they started trying and she must really hate me," please stop, because you're wrong. Everyone invited to read this blog is loved by us. We are happy for you and celebrate your amazing blessings. But sometimes, we just need to be sad.