An email from a friend today had me reminiscing about a time when I thought getting pregnant would be easy...back when I would scrutinize reviews for baby strollers and car seats and search through nursery themes with the eager anticipation of one sure that she would be pregnant at any minute. The email was a general inquiry about domestic violence shelters in the area that might be collecting used baby clothes that her daughter had grown out of. I work in the DV field, and liaise with area shelter, and was the therefore the logical person to ask. About half-way through answering her email, the thought just popped into my head, "maybe I should ask her to keep some of the less obviously girlie stuff for us for when we get pregnant."
As quickly and abruptly as the thought had occurred, I shushed it and shoved it away somewhere in the darkest recesses of my brain. What could I possibly have been thinking? Lord only knows when that might happen, or if it will ever happen. Should she hold onto the clothes forever, hoping against hope that one day they might be of use to her infertile friend? What silly optimism, what audacity, to think that I might be pregnant so soon, and might have use of such things as her beautiful daughter's cast off clothes.
It is not that I want to be a pessimist, it's just the fear of letting my hopes soar once again. I'm just so afraid of the pain, the starting over, the emptiness. I need to stay hopeful, really I do...I just can't go so far as to think of setting aside clothes for a baby that may not come to wear them.
7dpo and losing faith daily. Not a great start to the new year, is it?