I've posted on a few blogs lately and found myself actually admitting that infertility has kicked my ass and won. It's true.
The fight is over for me. In fact, over to the point that I am now thinking I need to speak to my doctor about preventing pregnancy. Ironic, no?
The fact of the matter is that in a few short weeks I will be turning 44 years old. I have decided that I although I would love to experience pregnancy, I am not sure I'm ready to adapt to having a baby. I know it's a true miracle when a baby actually results from a pregnancy, but the reality is that is always a possible outcome when one does manage to become pregnant.
Even HB has admitted in the last few months that he enjoys his peace and quiet, and the freedom that we have when Frodo and Mini-Me go back to their mother's house.
I know I've said before that I'm done with this journey, but somehow this time, it feels real. I still haven't fully taken the step to connect with the doctor about prevention, but I think I will be doing so soon.
So it's probably time to remove me from your fertility related blogroll. I'll probably continue to blog, but about far more mundane matters. Like the previous post. And since you're obviously hanging on the edge of your seat about my basement declutter outcome, I'll let you know. It's still in exactly the same shape. We haven't moved a thing. There. Feel better?
I might blog about the loves of my life - my dawgs. In fact, expect that. And I will still obsessively stalk people like Ollie and Julia and Julianna and DinoD and Tiff - all for different yet common reasons. Different in terms of what their current paths are, but common in that these women have inspired, journeyed, cried and laughed with me over the past few years. I'll also regularly haunt people like Cecily and Sarah because I really do want to be their friends in real life and live in awe of their tattoos which I've always been too chicken to get myself.
I also might blog about my new interest in healthy living, and the fact that I've lost almost 30 lbs and 16.6 inches since joining the gym. Count on me regularly talking about my amazing husband and how gobsmacked I remain that we managed to find each other in this big world and so late in our lives, and how eternally grateful for that I remain.
But I suspect my blogging about baby desires are over. It's been a blast.