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God has blessed me tremendously with an amazing husband, Doug, and two gorgeous little boys, Gavin and Joey. It has always been a dream of mine to have a large family but God may have other plans. I had a series of 6 consecutive early miscarriages when trying for baby #2. We are currently trying for baby #3 after our 7th miscarriage. I am faithful that God's plan is perfect, even when I am not happy about it. I love comments and meeting new followers so please don't be shy!

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Thursday, June 28, 2012


One of the strange things about trying to conceive is how it often feels like I am in some sort of time warped bubble.

I have a very normal cycle so I only have to wait about 12-14 days for ovulation.  Two weeks.  No big deal.  Then starts the two week wait which for me is closer to a 12 day wait to find out if I have to start all over again.  So, a total of 26 days.  That isn't a huge amount of time.  26 days is almost 4 weeks.   I know what you are thinking.  Whoa!  Check out her math skills.

Four weeks of a failed trying to conceive cycle means that someone that got pregnant last cycle, is now 8 weeks pregnant and likely heard a heartbeat.

Another failed cycle for me?  They are now celebrating the end of the grueling first trimester and enjoying a moment or two of relief.

Then 4 weeks later and another one lined test staring back at me, they are starting to stroke an emerging belly and eagerly anticipating those first kicks and rolls of baby.

I forge ahead and try try again.  No dice?  They are finding out the gender.

It really is simple math.  But why does this still feel so strange to me.  I think my brain wants the pregnant ladies should slow down their progress so that I can catch up.  While impossible, it would still make me feel better.

But in fairness, I should say that when I was pregnant, it was completely different.  I couldn't believe how long a week was.  Each week felt like a month.  Each day like a week.

I know I might be kind of babbling but I feel like the mother who looks at her child and wonders to herself, how on Earth did my kid start and finish high school.  Wasn't I just dropping him off at kindergarten?  But ask that same kid how long high school felt?  Forever.  It took forever.

I want to be in high school (minus the dramatic nonsense) is the bottom line.  I want my time to drag in anxious agony.  I want to cross each day off my calendar and smile because I am pregnant.

I should know if I get to watch time go in slow motion by Monday or Tuesday.  Keep the prayers and baby dust coming! 


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