Well... shoot, huh?

Those were the words my doctor used when she walked into the exam room and plopped down on her chair yesterday. Only she didn't say "shoot"... if you catch my drift.

And in those three words, she identified my feelings perfectly.

I was in to see if some magic medicine they gave me a few weeks prior did what it was supposed to. Obviously, it didn't.

Trying to figure out this whole "how do we let Megan be a mommy?" thing is exhausting. And frustrating. And depressing. And infuriating. One might think I actually was pregnant with the way I cycle through all of these emotions (and more!) over the course of probably five minutes.

My husband keeps telling me it will work -- something will work. My doctors keep saying that I will be a mommy. But it's so hard not to get dragged down by all of it. Husband can't see why I'm not more optimistic about it all, but it's this perpetual gnawing fear that eats at me that I just might be one of those women who can't have a baby.

It's hard to not be angry and to not have questions. What's wrong with me? Why am I "broken"? Why is this so easy for other women? Why do others who don't even want a baby get pregnant, while someone who does, can't? What if I really can't?

Last week my aunt, cousins, mom, sister and I went to the Minnesota Zoo. Our first stop there was the dolphin training show. The dolphins jumped high out of the water and the trainers threw them little fish as rewards... and all around me sat mommies and daddies with their little ones, oohing and aahing at each trick. And I sat with tears in my eyes, wondering if I would ever have a little one to take.

There are times when I have hope. But there are times when I just want to curl up and cry. And so I do. I'm trying to be mindful of a number of things: that God has a plan, that I've been blessed with a great husband, supportive and loving family, a job and friends that I love. And that, with time, there will be some form of a resolution.

Summer's almost over. My parents both took the day off and we, along with my sister, ate a yummy lunch on the patio while the sun warmed my skin and the wind blew through the cottonwoods and made that same soothing, comforting sound I know so well. It's days like these with people like that that I am hanging on to and keeping in my pocket for the ones ahead when I'm feeling defeated and like there's not much hope. Because remembering them makes me thankful for what I have when I'm being bratty and dramatic about what I don't.

So for the time being, I try to comfort myself. I try to stay positive and shut out those nasty, negative thoughts for at least bits and pieces of the day.

Yes, I will be a mommy. Just not yet.