I hate this. I hate this situation even more now than I did the last time I wrote those words in my journal. I hate that Deeks is trying to be supportive and optimistic and all I can do is shoot him down. But I’ve learned that I can’t get my hopes up only to have reality crush them again. I was the one who was so positive that we’d conceive at first; that all we needed was to go through these treatments and we’d get pregnant. I really thought it would have happened by now, and every time it doesn’t it hurts so, so much. So no, I can’t bear the idea of having a nursery that we may never use, a room I’ll have to pass every day and be reminded, mocked even, that my body continues to fail me. To fail us. No matter how much Deeks wants to be optimistic.
Maybe it’s time to give up, at least with the attempts for me to conceive. Adoption is something I wasn’t ready to consider before, but maybe we need to start exploring that option. Is it horrible that I want a baby that is part of me and Deeks, though? (I can so clearly see a mini-Deeks following after his daddy everywhere he goes.) I wonder how difficult (not to mention expensive) it is to use a surrogate?
Even writing those words, knowing they might be the only way to have a family, makes me feel so …inadequate. That’s probably why Deeks is trying to be so positive now, come to think of it. I’m sure he sees me wallowing in self-pity and frustration and just wants to make me feel better. Hell, I tried to do the same when he was so down about LAPD, and then FLETC.
OK, time to stop writing about it and start talking to my husband about it. Even if I don’t want Deeks’ optimism right now, I know I need his perspective…and his arms around me again.