Baby socks

When my husband and I first started trying to conceive I bought a pair of John Deere ruffled baby socks. I kept them in a drawer hidden away, waiting for the day I could present them with a positive pregnancy test. After five years of trying, and failing, I finally threw then away about six months ago, and cried the whole time.

Now I’m looking at baby stuff again and I know I need to stop. It could still be years before we actually get a baby, if at all. We have an orientation setup for next week and I haven’t felt this much hope in so long.

So of course, I’m feeling obsessive about it now. It’s all I can think about. What we need to do. What it will cost. How long it will take. What we need to buy. How we’ll move the house around. I’m excited and scared like I haven’t been since I threw out my birth control, all those years ago.

Will this be the beginning of the rest of my life? Or the complete end to a chapter that I never got to start?

Categories: Depression, Infertility, Love, Mental Health, Parenting, PCOS, Pregnancy, Self Esteem, self-care, Writing

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