Melancholy

For the first time in a while, today was one of those days.  You know the ones -- those days when you feel like curling up in a little ball and hiding from the world for no reason at all.  Except you have a (very good) reason.  But it's a reason you can't explain, or even fully understand yourself.  You simply ache, overwhelmed by sadness, for that thing, that person, who is missing.

I am surrounded by babies and fertile people.  For those keeping track, I've got my co-worker next door (just gave birth); my good friend from HS (just gave birth), three more co-workers (all due in June), and now two former high school classmates (thanks, FB!) are due in August and September.  Both my sister and my SIL are actively TTC and will probably beat me to the punch (again).  That's just in IRL -- please don't get me started on all the bloggy friends I've had who have recently or will soon cross over to the other side.

While my rational brain tells me otherwise, my heart is convinced today that I will never, ever, see that side.  I may be given a brief glimpse sometime in the future, but I know that it can't last.  I feel doomed to this state of perpetual WANTING.  I want what they have -- and I truly feel like I will never have it.  I know quite rationally that this FET might work.  An adoption through DHS might work.  A friend of a friend of a friend who knows our story may reach out and a birthmother might fall into our laps.  There are a million ways that this could be resolved.  So why am I so dismal?  Why do I feel like none of those options or opportunities will actually pan out?

I am still (relatively) young.  I will be 31 in May -- I still have plenty of time to make this happen.  If I want it bad enough, if I am willing to fight for it, anything is possible.  I know this.  But today, I am all out of fight.  I feel resigned.  Don't mistake this for contentment with my lot -- I am bitterly resentful of it, without a doubt.  But I am also so very, very tired.  Tired of waiting, tired of wanting, tired of fighting and clawing and TRYING so damn hard.

Tomorrow I will get up, I will go running and go to work and make plans and cross things off my to-do list.  I will fax documents and mail checks and order medications and arrange for time off to visit with specialists.  I will pretend that everything is fine, until one day it is.

But tonight?  Tonight my heart hurts for all that isn't, and all that will never be.