I am a planner. I stopped taking that small pink pill in April and had planned on July. If it happened in July, we'd have a baby by next April. And if it happened in July I'd be feeling pregnant by now. I am well aware that these things don't always happen right away. Or on a schedule. Or when planned. Or at all. But I planned anyway.
In July my foot was worse than it was in June and doctors told me to start taking the tiny pink pill again, that it wasn't safe to risk getting pregnant if I had to have surgery, or just being injured in general. And so nothing happened in July and I am still the same.
I can't explain this to most people and so announcing it to you (whoever is out there) seems strangely comforting. I wanted this. It is not happening now. I know it will, later, future, sometime, but I was ready now. Maybe I am being taught something about not being so wound up by dates, by this imaginary timeline, by planning. Perhaps there is a lesson here that I am just not ready to learn.
|my twin nephews before their birthday party|