July marks 4 years since we first started trying for a family. I remember writing a similar post to this last year wondering how on earth I would survive another year of infertility, and yet somehow, I have. I have watched many important people in our lives get pregnant. We have grieved with those close to us who have experienced miscarriage this year. We await the birth of a new little niece or nephew – the fourth child (and third since we have tried to get pregnant) born to my hubby’s brother. Life goes on.
Shortly after our most recent adoption wait list fiasco, we attended a baby course specifically for adoptive parents. We recognized the two other couples in attendance from our adoption agency. It was painful to go to the class so soon after not being chosen for that potential match, but we learned some good things and hope we don’t forget them all before a little one joins us.
My one remaining close friend who has also been battling infertility almost as long as us, called me this week to let me know they are expecting. They have experienced miscarriage after IUI and were about to start IVF when they conceived on their own. I felt beyond thrilled and relieved for her. But I am grieving my last remaining pal to commiserate with about the joys of infertility.
For the last month and a half, the nursery door has been closed. We are on hold on the wait list so I have been doing the best I can to not think about babies and to focus on our upcoming trip. You can never really escape infertility though. Especially when others’ baby news continues to buzz all around us.
Will I have to write another anniversary post next year? Odds are, that answer is yes.