One Year

I've been dreading this, and I've put it out of my mind for quite some time now. In a few days when May arrives, we will have been trying to get pregnant for one year. It's just a number, and it doesn't even mean anything. God will bless us with children when the time is right. When our baby is finally conceived and born, we will be so glad for the timing, because that will be what gave us the exact child we are meant to have. So then why does it hurt so badly?

I think I've been in denial for a while now, trying to convince myself that I was fine with having an only child even if it came to that. I've been focusing on all the things I can do since I'm not pregnant - enjoy my wine, exercise, drink my morning coffee, not watch what I eat. In fact, I think I've been over indulging a bit.

Along with the whole one year anniversary thing, I've come to the realization that we are looking at - best case scenario - a 4.5 year age gap between children. And it could easily be more. I'm so afraid that my kids won't be close enough in age to play together, keep one another company, and be friends to one another. That is very upsetting, because the desire to give Elise a confidante is one of the reasons I want to add to the family. It's certainly not the only reason, but I'm in a panic all of a sudden. I feel like I'm running out of time.

I'm going to be 30 this year. While I'm mostly really excited about that and embracing it, I have to acknowledge that my fertility is not being enhanced by the extra year. Statistically speaking, I don't have a whole lot of child bearing years ahead of me.

With all these concerns running through my head, I almost feel like the walls are slowly closing in around me. Time is becoming of the essence to me, and everything is totally out of my control. And at some point, I'm going to have to deal with that.