My bloodwork will be checked for a thyroid problem.
And I'll start taking something to make me ovulate "better", if there is such a thing.
And in a few months I'll most likely have to make some sort of decision about how to best follow God's plan and my heart, all at once, when i'm afraid that maybe my heart wants something that isn't part of God's plan for me.
And on this gorgeous, cold, clear, sunny day, after spending the morning at the doctor's office, all I want to do is lie in bed and wish that things were different.
I wish that I could be happy, rather than jealous, when I find out that others are expecting blessings.
I wish that I didn't have moments in the hallway at school where I look at my classroom full of kids and think to myself how much I really want to have one of my own.
I wish that I didn't read other people's blogs and see pictures of smiling, happy kids all over the place, and read stories about how kids have done funny or silly or awful things and how their parents still love them so much anyway and isn't this what life is all about, anyway.
I wish, when I mention grandkids in the future to my mama, that she wouldn't mention how far off that must be.
I wish my best friends didn't already have babies sometimes, just because it makes it harder to let them know how much I'm struggling with not having one of my own.
I wish my other best friends weren't younger and unmarried, and therefore not in any position to even start wondering about why I don't have one yet.
I wish I didn't have to wonder, but could simply expect.
Perhaps that was where I went wrong -- I expected it to be easy, I expected it to happen.
But so far, my expectations have not been met, and it makes me sad.
It makes me sad not to have a little person to care for.
It makes me sad to always answer "We have a cat".
It makes me sad to pretend that I'm not interested in having kids yet, just to avoid answering personal questions about when and why not.
It makes me sad that my mama doesn't think I'm interested in having a family.
It makes me sad that for five weeks this summer, every single person I visit will ask me why I don't have babies yet, as if it were a choice I've made, and not just a choice, but the wrong one.
Clearly we as humans can choose NOT to start a family.
But the choice to start one? Apparently not my decision to make.
And today is a day that I'm struggling to trust that the right decision is being made for me.
I can't see all the answers; I don't know how the puzzle pieces of this life will fit together in the end.
But one day they will. And if I can hold on to that truth, I'll be ok.