I’ve always been a daydreamer.  Weather it’s riding on a bus or in the car, during a lazy Sunday afternoon, or while I’m drifting off to sleep, my mind tends to wander and my imagination ignites.  At this time two years ago, it seemed all my daydreams centered around my future children, and the pregnancy that would bring them into the world.  My husband and I were just starting to have those important conversations. “Are we ready?”  “Is it the right time?”  And finally, “Let’s do this!”  If you’d asked me then where we’d be in two years, I never would have predicted this.  I had an inkling things might not be easy, but deep down I really thought my daydreams would come true.  A big part of me thought by now, two years later, we would have a one year old baby.

The problem with daydreams is that when they don’t come true, when you want so badly for them to be real and then find out they can’t happen, then they haunt you.  Lately I’ve found myself playing in the shadows of “what if?” What if we had gotten pregnant right away?  What if I was pregnant now?  What if things were easier and life was different?

It’s not a matter of IF, it’s a matter of WHEN.  That’s when everyone keeps telling us now.  It’s a different daydream, but a similar ending.  And they tell us it will happen, just give it time. But on days like today, when I’m caught up in all the what-ifs, it’s hard to believe it.  I look back at the last two years, how much has happened, how hard we’ve tried, and here we stand with nothing to show for it.  I look around me, everyone else is moving forward, and here we are standing still.  I look ahead and I can’t see anything but more of the same.

So when will it be our turn?  When will this all pay off? When will my daydreams come true?


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