my current reality.

Life.

It's unexpected.

Disappointing.  Heartbreaking.  Frustrating.  Exhausting.

It's also offensive and hurtful... which is what you might think about me after reading my thoughts below.  I'm ok with this.  Not proud of it but also not ashamed.  Because today I'm feeling real.  I'm feeling dark.  I'm feeling honest.  I'm actually feeling.   

Feeling... 

I know that I'm lucky for endless reasons. I'm married to a wonderful man that I love with my whole being.  I have a beautiful house and an obnoxiously adorable puppy that loves to follow me around the house without end, that cuddles up on my lap every time I sit down, and that snuggles next to my tummy all night long while Jeremy's working.  I have a job that I (mostly) love and during the summers my only goal is to get tan.  I live in America, a place of freedoms and opportunities that millions of people around this world will never know...

I know all of these things.  I am a lucky girl with a blessed life.  Some people only pray that they'll someday have what is my day to day life.

So why does life hurt so bad right now?  Why does it hurt every morning to get out of bed after weeks of sleepless nights?  Why do I catch myself every day with tears randomly running down my cheeks?  Why does it feel impossible to check facebook or instagram or twitter?  Why do I get angry and bitter and hateful toward strangers every time I'm walking around WalMart or HyVee or church?

We can't get pregnant.  It's been over a year of endless attempts, ovulation kits, temperature taking, and invasive testing that has rendered heartbreaking results.  It may never happen for us.  I may never know the joy of carrying a child or the delight in showing my husband those stupid two lines that forever change your life.   

Never.

This word hangs in the air around me.  Not just sometimes, but all the time. It bounces off the walls and reverberates straight back into my broken heart. 

Jeremy is so positive, so optimistic, so convinced that things will work out for us; that someday we'll hold in our arms our own little miracle.  This just makes me angrier.  It makes me feel guilty for feeling hopeless, for being angry at God, for being emotionally incapable of being happy for everyone around me - the gloriously pregnant or the parents of a newborn or even those that are dragging their screaming 6 year old around the store.  I feel evil for wanting to throw my phone and computer across the room every time I log onto facebook or instagram where I see hundreds of baby and pregnancy pictures posted with nauseating status updates about how lucky they are, how they can't imagine life without their perfect, happy little family.  I even came upon one status that implied one's life is without purpose and contentment unless you have a child.  Yeah.  I'm angry.

These moments, which happen day in and day out, feel like a slap across my face.  Check that, these moments feel like these people are literally reaching into my chest ripping my already bleeding heart right out of my chest.

Graphic?

Maybe.

Dramatic?

No.

It's honesty.  For the first time in a long time.  

The one thing I've always known about myself is that I am meant to be a mother.  I've never been more sure of anything in my life. 

Now this.

So what? What should I think, feel, do??

I have no idea.




I guess I just breathe.  In and out.  All day long.  Today, tomorrow, the next day...

Maybe some day just breathing will turn back into really living.  

Until then, breathing is about all I can muster.