The other day, I found out a good friend was pregnant. I was stunned! Speechless. I didn't know what to think, but then lurking the back of mind was that massive neon sign that told me I had been unsuccessful for three years now. It was like someone had filled a bucket with cold, hard reality and thrown it right into my face.
In my mind I was happy for her. How couldn't I be? It was something she really wanted and I think she deserves it. But my heart wasn't really in it. I couldn't get over the fact that in the same three years I had been trying to conceive, she had met someone new, moved to Canada to be with him, married him and was now having his baby. A good three years for her, but what a waste of three years for me.
So many questions revolving around why it hasn't happened for me. Haven't I done all the right things? And if not, then what was I doing wrong? Why does it happen so easily for other people? Do I have it in me to keep trying?
My resolve is starting to wear very thin.
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