Not sure if this will be an uplifting, or depressing post.
Regardless, it's me.
And trying to process some feelings ...
For the first time ever, I dreamt about being pregnant last night.
I know it's hard to believe, but I've never been pregnant in a dream.
I think this is due to all my obsessing lately about wanting to be pregnant again.
Like, right now.
My dream was glorious.
I dreamt I took a pregnancy test and the two pink lines I've been desperately waiting for since last November showed up in all their glory.
My happiness was contagious.
I wonder if I smiled in my sleep.
We are coming up to my due date in less then 6 weeks.
With this impending date, I get more anxious to be pregnant.
And more mindful that I'm not.
I have good days and bad days.
Like last week when I was okay with not being pregnant even though I really want to be.
I was accepting of the truth.
That my body must not be ready.
Or it's not in the cards right now.
But this week has been rough.
I have been internally sad.
Longing to be pregnant again.
I'm counting down the days to when I will (or will not) start my period.
Monday, April 19th, if you're wondering.
Each month that passes feels so long.
Kinda torturous in a way.
Like, how long can my patience last?
Have you been in my shoes before?
Can you relate?
Do you remember who long each of your cycles felt?
Trying to take deep breaths and wait out these next 4 days ...
And prepping myself for possible disappointment.