Most girls fantasize about their wedding growing up. They fantasize about the dress, the venue, the flowers, and more importantly, the man at the end of the aisle. Usually it was a school crush, or some celebrity you had plastered all over your bedroom walls from various pages of J14 magazine you had ripped out. And when you finally get to a point in life where you meet the person you’re going to marry, all those fantasies come to life. Or maybe they change just a little. I never once thought I’d get married in a detention center, or witness strangers getting married and signing their marriage certificate with my newly found husband on my wedding day, but it makes for a good story. I married the man of my dreams. And I can eventually tell my children that their father and I got married in jail should we ever need to put the fear of God in them. LOL. However, nor did I ever imagine, I’d marry someone in the military. My life was very much the white picket fence, famous photographer/designer with children and a strong family bond. And now I sit here writing this binging One Tree Hill on the couch with my dogs because the Army took my prince away. But he comes home soon. Thankfully.
Children though. That replaces your fantasy after you have your wedding. At least it has with me. I wanted a wedding growing up, but not more than I wanted children of my own. I can’t tell you why I was that way and still am. My family made fun of me for watching “A Baby Story” on TLC. It always fascinated me. And then going through various heartbreaks and relationships in my teens and early 20’s, I kinda understood it. I want to know what it’s like to be able to love someone and to be loved by someone who wouldn’t be able to abandon or leave. I know my husband doesn’t leave by choice, but in his absence, I’d love to have a part of him here. Having something half of you and half of the love of your life to love on and hold onto is something I want more than I could probably explain. My dogs are great, and I love them. But I know there’s something about a bond with a child that makes you feel less alone when you are.
Sounds beautiful right? Yeah, it is. But what happens when the want for it is all you can think about? I’m not a patient person. And then fear sets in. The fear I’ll never have it. The fear of infertility. The fear of not being able to afford IVF. The fear that people will call me selfish for wanting to have a biological child and going through great lengths to achieve it. That’s the problem with being an over thinker and suffering through anxiety. Thinking becomes obsession. Obsession becomes frustration. Frustration becomes sadness. And then sadness becomes depression. And fear makes these transitions just that much harder. But I stay silent or try to not talk about it often as I try not to drive myself completely crazy. But then I scroll through Facebook, and babies are everywhere. Furthering the black hole I’m in.
And so I write, hoping someone reads it and understands, but also hoping no one does because laying your heart out on a document for everyone to read is slightly embarrassing. But if you read this, and are in the same position, know you’re not alone. And know that I’ve thought about you and the many out there like us, still hoping to see those two pink lines soon, even if they haven’t said it out loud. Because I just did for us all.
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