Waiting...

My period still hasn't come. This month is different though. I don't feel anxious, I don't feel stressed about it. I'm ambivalent. The reason why is simple: it doesn't matter at all. I don't think I'm currently pregnant (although DH is picking some pregnancy tests up for me to use tomorrow morning since that will be the one week late mark) and since we can't try, it doesn't matter at what point I am in my cycle. I've reached that broken acceptance point. It kills me, but it is what it is. My dream is dead, it's gone. By the time I have my first baby, I'll be 26 at least. There's just not much time to have my big happy family after that. I could blame my in-laws for telling DH that the insurance would be okay (in fact, I do blame them, I'm just not bitter anymore), or I could blame DH for believing them. The fact is though that nothing would change, nothing at all. The medical bills would still need to be paid.
I think about my dream: I can picture it so clearly because it's a scene I've experienced before. In my dream, I'm wearing an apron. That might seem weird, but it's not because there are cookies in the oven and I don't want to have to change my outfit before DH gets home. There are kids there too. One has brownish red hair and looks so much like me. She's holding a mixing bowl. I'm teasing her for eating the cookie dough. There's another kid there too- a blonde boy, sitting at the table. From time to time I walk over and help him with the school work he's working on. There's a toddler there too, in a play pen keeping himself occupied while mom is busy with the older kids and cooking. I've done this with my mom- I was the child, wearing the little apron so I could be just like mommy. I've always dreamed of one day being the mommy, the one in the adult sized apron with my daughter mimicking my every move and wanting to be just like me. Nothing else mattered.
When I was little, I wrote in my journal that I wanted to get married even though boys were gross because girls can't have babies by themselves and someone would need to work. Of course, desires change and I love DH more than my own life... But one thing hasn't: being a mom is my most important life goal. Everyday people use their last living thought to think of their unfinished goals. Someday, I'll be one of them. One or two of my kids might be there, but I'm pretty sure I'll always feel like someone is missing. Like my family should've been bigger. Like their 3rd and 4th siblings should've been there too, giving them a strength of numbers to deal with my loss.
Broken acceptance is a sad thing. It's a state of giving up, of letting go. But the hollow ache is so much more bearable than the anguish that accompanies a breaking heart.