I thought about entitled this post “Starring everybody in the world, but me” but then I realized that sounded like a familiar title. (It should. I took it from a song, but, also,) it’s not the first time I’ve felt this way, and so I looked back through my posts and sure enough, there it was. And here I am, living up to my name, “Hopelessly infertile, and surrounded…”
Another woman in my infertility group got a positive on her “first month of really trying.” She’s overjoyed because the previous pregnancy took two years and infertility treatments. And this one just showed up. And that happens. To a lot of people. To a lot of my friends, even. But not to me. Never to me.
And that makes me think of song too, “Tell me how am I supposed to live without you, now that I’ve been loving you so long?” Is there a happy ever after for me?