Talk to any woman who is desperately trying to conceive a child, and she'll have an intimate, personal definition of the word disappointment. It comes in so many forms: a miscarriage, another BFN, a non-existent cycle, an elusive ovulation. Of course, there are varying degrees of disappointment--or that's what those on the outside tell you. The reality is that I've cried equally hard for each of the disappointments listed above. The sense of failure is overwhelming, the loss of hope threatens to swallow you whole, the discouragement that leads you to consider just giving up is what drowns you in your sleep.
I wish it were as easy as pulling one of the tabs off the sign at the top of this post. If I could just grab myself some hope or faith or patience today, I would--abundantly. But I can't. I don't know how to anymore. I have tried to look at the positives, tried to find the silver lining, tried to discover what God's teaching me in five of the saddest months of my life. But I can't do it anymore. It hurts too much to risk hope over and over and keep having it slip out of my grasp.
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