Easier than some, harder than most.

Here's the thing: I like being transparent. I don't mind not having very many secrets, and, if you ask (and sometimes even if you don't) I'll tell you whatever is on my mind. That being said, if you want to know me better, keep reading. If you'd rather not know all that much about me, please stop here and wait for the next probably more bubbly and humorous post... mmmkay?

16: The number of months Ryan and I have been "trying" to have a baby. I hate that phrase. "Trying." Because if you try, and don't succeed, then you fail, right? So I guess that sentence would be "The number of months Ryan and I have failed to have a baby".

12: The age at which I realized I wanted to be a mother. Ironically, also the number of children I used to tell people I wanted to have. For those of you who sharply inhaled upon reading that last sentence, don't worry- I've altered that down to a much more socially acceptable 3 or 4 rugrats.

482: Approximate number of days I've woken up, put my hand on my stomach, and wondered what it'd be like to be kicked gently from the inside. Melodramatic? Yes. 100% honest and hard to put in words? Also, yes.

25(ish): Number of pregnancies I've heard about via Facebook or in person while we have been trying to make a family ourselves.

192,0399: Number of times I've been told to "Just relax, it'll happen." Seriously, I know people mean well but if one more person tells me that I'm going to fly off the handle.

So. There's the short and tall of it. We want a baby. We haven't had a baby yet. I don't like that fact. Pretty simple.

Yes, we know why it hasn't happened yet. At least, we know why the doctor says it hasn't happened yet. But that part I'm keeping a secret. ;) At least, a secret from the blog world. If we're friends and you're curious I fully don't mind talking about it... please just ask! It's actually very nice and therapeutic for me to be able to talk about it. But Ryan and I decided in tandem that while my blog was whatever I wanted it to be, it wasn't the place to air out the specifics of this particular issue. So is it weird that I'm talking about it, without really talking about it? Sure. Do I care? Not really. ;)

Being diagnosed as infertile is a pretty weird thing. And by 'pretty weird' I mean 'absolutely terrifying.' I'd spent the last 11 years saying to anyone who wanted to know that my worst fear was never being able to have children. Everyone I said this to shrugged it off. They told me 'Yeah, that'd suck, but don't worry you'll be fine.' Ha.

So even though 16 months doesn't seem like a long time, remember that I've woken up everyday for more than a year feeling as if I'm literally living out my worst fear. Add to that ultrasound Facebook profile pics, and baby showers, and adorable, cuddly newborns of the 25ish pregnant women I've known and you've got one hot mess of a poor little infertile couple. Yes, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, and I don't care.

And yet, we're not that bad. Like the title says: our journey has been easier than some, but harder than most. I've been reading a lot of fertility related blogs, and research, and pretty much everything I can get my hands on. And while it still could be a while for us, we've been given some hope lately in the form of some positive test results.

My heart breaks for some of the women whose blogs I've been reading. These strong, amazing, women having been struggling with infertility for SO LONG, or have had trouble carrying a baby to full term. It seems that even on my best days, they're still handling it better than I am. And they're on a whole different level than Ryan and I. We're talking daily shots, and IVF struggles, and miscarriages. They inspire me on every level. I have a weird mix of emotions towards them. Part of me wants to be strong and tough like they are, and the other part is hoping I never have to be that strong.

SO. If you're the praying type, please pray for strength for us. Pray that Philippians 4:13 will ring true in our hearts. "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."

And if you're not the praying type... just let me talk through it. :) Let me work it out, ask me how I'm doing, ask if you can do anything to help, but don't tell me about how it'll happen when I least expect it, or so and so adopted and now they got pregnant, or some magic formula of a vacation and alcohol that worked for someone else. I know that you don't know what else to say. I know that it's an uncomfortable topic. I know, maybe, you feel sorry for me and feel bad about that. That's okay.

There's a song by a band called Bright Eyes, that makes me think that someday it'll all be just fine. God will prevail, we'll get the child we've been dreaming about for years. Yes, I know it's cheesy, but here's what I'll sing to that lil baby.

"Yours is the first face that I saw

Think I was blind before I met you

I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been

But I know where I want to go

So I thought I'd let you know

These things take forever and I especially am slow

But I realized that I need you

And I wondered if I could come home

And you said

This is the first day of my life

Glad I didn't die before I met you

Now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you

And probably be happy"