I met my husband when I was twenty; he was thirty when we got married a year later and despite the age difference, we had so many things in common it was simply the right thing to do. Since then D and I have been trying to have a baby or two. We tried insemination three times and we failed all three. It is a very difficult situation for us both, but nonetheless we are still together and happy. The wanting for children is still three but it was replaced by our three dogs just for a bit. You see I am thirty-one now and every day I wake up wishing I was a mom not just to my dogs but to a little me or little D. I am hurting inside and I know he is as well we have little talks about this and he assures me that things will work out, not to worry, and most importantly we still have each other. But it hurts more when we have out yearly pool party for your nieces and nephews we get to be pretend parents for a day. I hurt when I see the joy on his face when he is laughing and playing with them, spinning them around, splashing in the pool, or telling bedtime stories. I wish it was our baby he was doing all this to.
I remember the first time we thought we were pregnant, it was a month after our first insemination, we took an at home test that said we were expecting. We were so filled with joy we went out that same night to celebrate and told some of our friend and both our moms. Three days later after the blood test came back and we found out that we were not going to be mommy or daddy in nine months we both fell to the floor in tears. Now again here I am we took another test on Sunday and it said again that we are expecting but this time I don’t believe it. I took the blood test Monday and I am awaiting the results at 3:30 p.m., fingers crossed, I hope and pray that we are but if we are not I honestly believe that I would go mad this time for sure.