Five Months

Five months.  That is how old Ethan should be.  And every single month that goes by reminds me of what isn't.  It is SO hard.  Even on "good" days, everything is so hard.

Right now, I'm trying to work through a couple of things:

1) My hatred of pregnant ladies and babies.  I know it is not a rational feeling.  I know it is so terrible on my part.  But I hate them.  All of them.  Well, that is a partial lie.  I LOVE my friends who are pregnant who have gone through IVF, or have had losses themselves.  But everyone else, I hate.  The ladies in Walmart, the babies at the grocery store.  I hate them.  And I'm trying so hard to work through it.  It's exhausting.  It's so hard. 

2) I was pregnant with 17 other women I knew, all due this year.  Why me? This is one that will haunt me forever.  I can't even make sense of it.  Especially when there are countless women who never wanted to get pregnant.  Or had "whoops" babies who they didn't really care for.  Mark and I have been trying for 4 years to have a family!  We always said that Ethan was 4 years in the making... he was born on April 2 and our anniversary is April 4.  So almost 4 years to the day.  And we didn't get to keep him?!?  Why?  Why us?

So right now I find myself exhausted.  I'm so tired of having to work through things.  I'm tired of having to try all the time.