I'm not really sure how to categorize my feelings of the past weeks. I am feeling overwhelmed by the amount of baby-everything that seems to be surrounding me. FB is becoming even worse of a nightmare than usual and I finally had to turn off the recent titles of posts in my blog roll to the right. I really need to separate them into categories, but that requires time and concentration.
There is a piece of me that is feeling so left behind. So left out. So much more alone than ever before. While I'm so happy for every. single. one. of you who have babies in your bellies or in your arms, I'm finding that coming here and going through my reader just isn't the same. And when I sit down to write, I feel like a broken record, so I'm sure I sound just like one too. Thankful Thursdays have even lost their luster.
And then I realize there are still plenty of others who are still waiting and have been waiting so. much. longer. than me, and I become very aware that I need to get over myself. Yet, this is even different too. Instead of finding hope and inspiration in your stories of perseverence, I'm only seeing the truth of how long this just might go on; of the pain that lies ahead. And I'm so angry that any of us ever had to experience even one moment of this.
I'm lost for words when wanting to comment. I'm lost for tact and perspective when writing here. (If you could only see the draft posts...well, let's just say it's better you can't see them...)
I know I can't give up this place; I know for a fact I might just go crazy if I do that. And yet, I have to find a new way to do this. A way to do this where I feel better rather than worse; where I have hope rather than more doubts; where I find strength not fear.