today is my birthday. I am 32 years old.

on this day, two years ago, my husband and I agreed that would be the official start date for “trying”.

and here we are, 2 years later. 730 days later. 24 months later.

how many times have I cried at the end of the month, some worse than others, when I would get my period after the mental mindf*ck that is the two week wait?
how many times did I want to buy new clothes and I thought to myself, “well, if I get pregnant this month- it won’t fit anymore, so I should just wait”?
how many times did we go out for sushi, cheers-ing in hope to it being the last time I can eat raw fish?
how many times did I google the estimated due date based upon potential date of conception, imagining the stages of pregnancy I’d be in depending on the season? what type of birthday parties we would throw depending on the weather that time of year?

where have these last 24 months gone?

I’m not going to lie. today I am sad. I am angry. I am jealous of every single pregnant belly I see.
this birthday is very, very bittersweet. I can’t help but think of how different today would be if my body wasn’t fighting against what it’s biologically supposed to do. we’d have an infant, a newborn, I’d at least be pregnant.

we and I are none of those things today.

but in less than two weeks, if all goes to plan, we’ll be starting the IVF process. and while I’d like to think that by this time next year, on my 33rd birthday, we’ll have a newborn, or I’ll at least be pregnant– what I’ve learned in these last 2 years, what I have trained myself not to do as time has gone on, is put expectations on the future. I’ve found myself thinking a lot more pessimistically lately. being crushed month after month can do that to a person, no? I’m working, with the support of my incredible therapist who has gone down this infertility journey herself, on at least having a realistic mindset on what the future holds. if I can get to the place of cautious optimism, fantastic. but at least I need to think realistically.

and realistically, statistics are on our favor. and realistically, this could also just be the beginning of our journey.
realistically, our baby will be here before we know it, and all these emotions I’m feeling today will be a fleeting and fuzzy memory.
and realistically, we could also have many more hurdles to cross, and many more tears to shed.

but I’m trying to stay focused on the present.
so I deeply breathe in, and I blow out my candles.