I want to rise above. Really, I do.

Disclaimer: this blog post may sound like it's about you. It may actually BE about you. Please know that if it is about you, or you perceive it to be, I love you very much and I am very happy for you. If this is not yet about you, but there might be news to share, don't refrain from telling me because you don't want to make me feel bad -- I can take it, and I want to celebrate with you. And I'm gonna find out anyway.

I strive to be a good person. To give others the benefit of the doubt. To own my crap. And in this struggle to become a mom, I think I've been pretty damn graceful. Since I have a glass-half-full mentality of the world and since I try and gather a life lesson at every opportunity, I think that helps. But some days suck. And sometimes they suck because it feels like everyone has what I can't get.

Over the last two weeks, at least 87* people I know have announced that they or their partner/spouse is expecting a baby. Some were trying. Most weren't. Some have been married for 1/10 as long as Bill and I have been married. Some probably got pregnant on the first try. One announced a pregnancy pretty darn early, which is awesome for her, but a reminder that I was so jaded from our losses and terrified at each pregnancy that I would NEVER have announced until at least 12-15 weeks, had I ever made it that far along. One shared that his wife is expecting their third and while my lips said, "that is SO wonderful! congratulations!" my head said, "your third?! Don't you think you're being a bit greedy?!"

Babies are awesome and all of these people are pretty cool, so their kids will also be cool and it'll be really cool to have so many more cool people in the world. (Maybe we've just solved the global warming crisis by bringing all this cool to the earth. You're welcome, Al Gore.) And I know that logically all these pregnancies and babies isn't taking a child away from me. But it's hard to believe in some order to the universe, some greater karmic give and take, when I feel consistently denied parenthood at every turn on this journey while others have too much tequila to ring in the new year and are now sharing the good news about little Jose Cuervo** who they expect to arrive in the fall.

If you think I'm mad at you, read the disclaimer. No. I'm just pissed at the unfairness of the situation and I'm sick of waiting and I have a house full of baby stuff and a sweet nursery and I just want to be a mom before I'm 87***, dammit.

I'll hug you. I'll go to your baby shower. I'll get you a pretty fabulous gift, since I am probably the only non-parent expert on baby products. I'll bring you a great big casserole this fall or winter when little Jose is born. And I will do all of this out of love for you and your super cool baby, even if on the inside, sometimes I want to scream.

*numbers may be inflated for effect. I don't care.

** joke stolen from a friend who did once say she should name her son Jose Cuervo based on his conception story.

*** numbers better be WAAAAY f@$&ing inflated, or I'm going to kill something.

Things that get me through the day.

Work and life have been stressful lately, to say the least. I often wonder if staying incredibly busy is the way it has to be, or if it's a coping mechanism. If I'm too busy, I won't have time to stop and think about where we're at on this roller coaster ride. My fabulous therapist counseled me to try and think about what I want life to look like until the baby comes instead of constantly fretting about when the baby is coming. Since that part is out of our control, that makes sense. So in the "until" category are things like painting the nursery (DONE!), a trip to France with our fabulous wine club friends, and continuing to sleep in whenever possible. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sick of "enjoying my life sans kids" already, but since it is what it is, I'll try and make the best of it.

I also have been really sad to see some friends I love go through their own fertility struggle. I guess I always hope that if Bill and I have had to go through all this craparama, it should be to prevent my loved ones from experiencing the same heartache. I know that logically we can't prevent our friends from having this journey of their own, but I guess I had hoped that somewhere on the karma scale, we'd paid forward some sunshine onto others. While that isn't happening, I hope that knowing they have friends who have been through this can help at least a little bit.

So where are those rays of hope? They're out there. In the form of my dear friend T, who adopted her sweetie pie nearly four years ago -- her daughter is amazing and while we aren't geographically close, every photo and video warms me tremendously. In the form of my friend A, who had a years-long fertility struggle and welcomed her daughter into the world just a few weeks ago. Two completely unrelated friends, C and C, who also experienced infertility and loss and are both now pregnant -- I am sending up prayers for you both, girls!

Those are just a few of the many friends whose personal stories of struggle and ultimate triumph help me every day, whether they know it or not. Thanks, dear ones.

Not the birthday I expected

Today is my birthday. Not a momentous one this year -- good ol' #38. Definitely in my late thirties (I'm now in my mid-late-thirties, as my sister would say) but not quite to the next major milestone.

This was not the birthday I expected. I thought that this birthday would come and go almost unnoticed, given that we'd be so wrapped up in the joy of parenthood. That being with Stephen would be such an incredible gift that he would eclipse any gift or celebration. And I didn't get that birthday.

Then, I figured that this birthday would suck. Flat out, miserable horridness. Another birthday and I'm STILL not a parent? And no Stephen? The only present I want is a baby and no one can give me that. Dammit.

But that wasn't the birthday I had either.

Today was just a really happy day. First of all, it was an unbelievable 85-degrees and just gorgeously sunny outside. Then, I had a baby dream and a friend had a baby dream about Bill and I. I did some great work on our annual report with our graphic designer, who is super fun. I had a delicious lunch outside. I was celebrated by my dear, amazing colleagues. I got about 100 facebook posts from friends near and far. I talked to my family. I had a delicious dinner with Bill.

It wasn't the Stephen-filled joy fest, but it wasn't despair. It was a day of gratefulness and happiness and sunshine and love. It made me optimistic that things are shifting. That life is going forward. That today I have a chance to start this year over again. So I'll do so with a renewed sense of energy for the year ahead. Bring on the joy, 38!