It’s been a hard day today. Not for any obvious reasons, although they are there, just like every day. It’s the little things that get me down more than anything lately.
I was driving into work this morning and a song came on the radio “Then they do” by Trace Adkins. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-SAP8BFNkQ It’s a sweet song about children growing up too fast. I never paid much attention to that song before, but it hit me hard today. I was overcome by the realization that for every month we don’t get pregnant, it’s a month lost with my child on the other end of my life. I am 32 now, my mom died when she was 45 and I was 20, still a junior in college. She never saw me graduate, never saw me buy my first house, never saw me become a veterinarian, never saw me get married and she never got to meet her grandbabies (my brother is expecting the birth of his son any day now) Every month that I spent with her was precious, particularly at the end when I knew her life was ending.
Every month that we don’t get pregnant is another month that my child will have to live without his or her mommy and daddy. So many times when I think of the time pressure to have a child, I focus on my age and the risks that may come with waiting too long to have a baby. This is the first time that I thought about the other side of it. What if we have a baby when I’m 33, and I die at 45 like my mom? That child will only be 12 years old. Who will teach her about being a woman? Who will teach him how to dance?
I know it’s senseless to think of these things. I can’t change my age and hell I may live to be 100, but I can’t shake this funk. I feel hopeless. There is a weight of sadness that I can’t shake today. I think it’s been worse since we took a month (almost two) off. I need to feel like I’m doing something to try and get pregnant. I hate this feeling of stagnation and it makes me want to cry to think of that time lost. The precious time with a baby that is somewhere waiting for us.