I should be out shopping for the perfect ornament for my child's first Christmas. I should be frantically trying to find a 4th stocking that matches the ones I bought 2 years ago for BJ, the Little Guy and myself. I should be receiving way too many gifts from family and friends for our child. I should have had a family picture taken to make Christmas cards like all the "normal" families do. I should be standing in line at the mall with a screaming baby in the hopes of getting a decent picture with Santa. I should be figuring out how to keep my 8 month old from grabbing ornaments off of our tree.
But I'm not. Our IVF failed, as I have mentioned no less than 100 times on this blog. I'm sure you are sick of hearing it at this point. But it hurts all the time. Especially when I think about everything mentioned in the above paragraph. I feel lonely and lost. I feel jipped and jinxed. I feel bitter. I'm not exactly sure what I'm bitter at, but it's there...lingering.
Then I read the blogs in my "Babies after IF" folder and I am overcome with happiness. So much so, that I am on the verge of tears sometimes. Happy and sad tears. So very happy that I know these women that get to do all of those things above. They fought tooth and nail to get those babies that will have a first Christmas this year and they are so deserving. The sad tears are pretty self explanatory. I'm sad for me. I'm sad that I'm left behind and that I'm still fighting. Then I'm mad at myself for throwing a pity party so I move on to other thoughts. I try to stay with the happy feelings most of the time, but it's hard. When I see the stockings hanging it tugs at my heart that we are missing one.
I know that not all IVF's work and sometimes you need 2 or 3 or 8 to get a baby. We had one shot. We put all our eggs in one uterus (ha ha). We had 2 perfect embryos and neither one stuck. It's the hand I was dealt and I just need to learn to accept it. I just don't know how. Especially when all I can think about is how this was to be our baby's first Christmas.