Today, I took off work. I took off work because work is slightly insane. Finals depleted my energy and brain functioning. Most of all, I knew I would need time to recover from this weekend. It's the holidays when the heartache is almost unbearable, and the tears are never ending.
Some of my fondest memories are waking up on Christmas to packages and surprises left by Santa. I remember the year I got the pink Barbie corvette, the year of the make-believe kitchen, and the year of the frosty purple N64 (which I kinda wished I still had). Besides Christmas, Mother's Day is the next holiday that punches me in the gut and is constant reminder that I am yet to be the one thing I want to be... a mother.
I don't talk much about our journal and struggles with infertility because it makes people squeamish. (If that's you, turn away now.) I also don't talk a lot about it because people are terrible at comforting someone who deals with infertility. Like, someone who has children and mentions how they understand how awful it feels. No, you don't. Or, the person who offers their kid as consultation, or tells me to wait. I also don't talk about it a lot because I can sound bitter (see above). It's truly a pain you do not understand unless you have lived through it. And, if you have it's also a pain you could never explain to anyone.
But... back to Mother's Day. I knew today there would be thousands of pictures of kids bringing home flowers, presents, and crafts from school. I literally have mentally prepared myself for a week. Alas, I've failed miserably. Clearly, it's late, and I'm pouring over my keyboard. I'm not knocking people for sharing their happiness, but it is difficult. I would kill to have my own baby to bring me home a partially wilted flower. A hand-print card. A Q&A that depicts me in a comical way. I tell myself I will have a turn someday, but that day is not today.
After switching to a new doctor we actually had some positive news. For years we've been told nope, never, not going to happen. Lately, we've been singing a different tune. We're still in a waiting game, and we still face a future of uncertainty. The waiting is the most difficult part. I'm close to 30, and we're still quite some time away from even being able to try and conceive. It's defeating. It's heartbreaking. When I feel like giving up, I remember the reason I started.
It's those Christmas mornings. The late nights of setting up Santa gifts. Eating cookies and drinking milk. It's the hand-print cards and little flowers with the sweet notes attached. It's the Q&A paper that says I like to eat everything, my age is incredibly off. So while you're celebrating with your moms or celebrating with your own children, say a little prayer and send a little love to those who may be struggling. Again, I hope to share this joy with you someday, but that's not today.
The other day I was asked why I buy so much makeup... I don't even think I responded because what kind of question is that? I don't think the person meant anything malicious by it, but it did puzzle me for a moment. Let me give you the short and sweet answer. I like makeup. 
