It's hard to accept that I will likely never have a child. It's hard to accept that we will grow old never knowing what might have been. It's hard to accept all of it. I want a kid more than almost anything else in this world. The only things I want more are my life and my husband. And the first is a struggle some days.
It breaks my heart when I see Blake outside playing with the neighborhood kids. Knowing that he'll never get to play like that with his own child. That there will be no child. It brings me to tears, and I'm not much of a cryer. It's only been 6 months since we've decided to stop trying, but I can't help hoping we'll change our minds one day. I know the likelihood is slim, but I'm still relatively young and we have time. Physically I'm getting worse and mentally I'll likely only go downhill, so young for me and young for others is a bit different. But I'm still young nonetheless. I hate that the thing that keeps me going is holding on to that slim little bit of hope that maybe we're not done. That maybe we will try again.
I know it's time to move on and that it's selfish of me to want to bring a kid in to what could undoubtedly be a complicated upbringing. But it is what it is.
I'm looking for new hobbies. Hopefully I can find something to fill my time and distract me enough to help me move on. I want to exercise more, but that's just been causing me more pain lately, so we'll see. We're hoping to get a treadmill soon. So fingers crossed that actually happens. I miss running.
My sewing machine is broken, so I'm hoping to take it in to be fixed soon. I should have had it done by now, but I kept putting it off. This Haldol is killing my mood. I never feel like doing anything anymore. Next time I see the psychiatrist I think I'm going to ask to switch meds. It's not helping my mood when I can't make myself want to do anything.