numb

Numb might be too easy a description for how I feel. Depressed? Sad. I don't care anymore. That last one's a lie because if I didn't care I wouldn't be this upset. It's starting to sink in that now, when Josh and I make love, it won't be resulting in a pregnancy. Ever. I'll never be able to say "Oh yea. I remember that night! It was so beautiful and special. That was how you were made. The result of a love so powerful it had to explode into another human being." This will never be the case. Ever. We are a statistic. We are the 10% who are fertile separately, but not fertile together. How is that possible? The way Josh's doctor put it was so ... doctor like. No emotion whatsoever. "Separately, you can have a family. Together, you can't." That phrase keeps going through my head over and over and over. "Together, you can't." And now I'm back to crying all the time. I'm so exhausted from all of the doctors and "no"s. I'm trying to fight off all the emotion by telling myself "at least we are healthy and things could be so much worse" but it's not helping when all my life all I've ever wanted was to be a mom.When I've always told Josh "if I can't have a baby I don't know what I'd do." It's starting to look like I'm going to find out how strong I can actually be. Or am. I want to take a break from it all but I don't want to stop until I find answers. 

So, we press on. Josh told me yesterday "Look at it this way. We found another answer in our detective work. Now let's find more answers with the specialist. We WILL solve this." I love him so much. 

"Together, you can't." ... Well, I don't believe that. Together, we can do ANYTHING!  Now, we must look for more answers.