My husband left today to make his first feature film. I am so proud of him and thankful to God for the opportunity before him. It has been amazing to watch God open one door after another on their behalf to make this film. It does my heart good to see a dream start to be realized.

I've been going through stuff and updating my scrapbooks today and came across our wedding album. As I opened it up and flipped through the pages, I came across a certain picture and began to cry. It's the picture of us at the altar with joined hands staring into eachother's eyes as we said our vows. The beginning of our union. I cried because there are supposed to be children by now. Children created from that union that took place six and a half years ago. See, I was supposed to be a stay-at-home mom by now. How quickly I learned I am not in control of growing our family.

I guess it's natural (especially for a woman) to "plan" how her life will go, how many kids she will have and when, where she will live, etc. And it works for most people, even for other type A's like me. In fact I work with one. I mean, it's been my heartbeat since I was a little girl. I would play with dolls, barbies, even pretend my baby sister was my baby.

I am so tired of thinking about getting pregnant. It has consumed my thoughts and I desperately want to move on and get on with my life. I don't want to live in this world of monthly cycles of hope, waiting and disappointment forever. I can't. I am tired of wishing away time in order to get to the next step in fertility treatment or in most cases -- the end of it.

I have a few more days of waiting until this insane 2WW is over. Of course I am hoping for the best. I have zero symptoms though. Wouldn't it be nice to be pleasantly surprised? To have the pride of being one of the ones "it worked the first time for"?

Hanging on to hope with everything I've got in me...

BCD