False Alarm
Monday, Nov. 17, 2003, 8:14 a.m.

Short one, yet again, but, at least I'm here, right? Anyway, I had a false alarm with thinking I might be pregnant. Turns out I'm just fat. It hurt, this morning, to look at the little stick and know that I'm not pregnant. I mean, Anthony and I had decided we'd wait until I'd graduated from college to start trying to have children, and I know that, with my disease, it's not possible for me to have a spontaneous pregnancy... but somehow that didn't stop me from hoping. I was joking with my friend last night as I bought the test, saying that, if I really was pregnant, I'd be able to tell the child that she or he was a miracle baby. I actually don't ovulate due to PCOS. The eggs don't or can't completely detach from my ovaries, they just sit there and create cysts. So, without some sort of fertility medication forcing the eggs to detach from my ovary walls, there's no chance for it to reach my uterus. Anyway, too much info, I realize. I'm just feeling very, very sad about it all. And feeling like something of a freak because I'm not able to get pregnant. Oh, don't get me wrong, I realize how complicated having a baby now would make my life. I wouldn't go back to school for years, if at all; money would be incredibly tight; we'd have to move and, by the time we would be able to move, I probably wouldn't have been able to help much with anything but packing; the dreams I've had about... oh, so many things would come crashing to the ground. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better that I can't have a baby. Ever since we got married, every time I look at a baby or a small child, I long for one beyond belief. I love children; I love working with the kids at Sunday school. Nothing can make me laugh like a three year old making a pretend grumpy face just like King Saul (which is somehow infinitely cuter than the happy faces we made a the end of the story) or calling me "Miss Texas" instead of "Miss Tessa". Children delight me in a way that's hard to describe. I love to see them learning and playing, laughing and happy, even when they're sad and want to be cuddled... I just love being around children. I know it's a lot different having your own, that, when they get aggravating, that they're still there, and I can't send them home to their own mommies and daddies... but I want to be able to tuck my babies into bed, to read bedtimes stories and see them sleeping, looking like little angels, even if that's the only time they look like angels. *sigh* So, I'm a little blue today. Something more interesting or cheerful tomorrow.

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