Ok.....so after getting off the train and trying my absolute darnest to move forward with my life and convince myself that I didn't need to have children in order to live a happy life...I've finally slapped myself and woken up to the fact that as much as I want to believe that thinking, I can't.
I can no longer deny that I want a sprog. I want to be knocked up with sprog. As much as I try to convince myself that this dream isn't NOT a necessity for me, for us, that I'd be fine, upset for awhile BUT fine if we don't become, parents, I'm not and I won't be.
And so I've decided that it's time to climb back on the train and ride it for a little while longer, hoping beyond hope that one of the stations that it stops at is "Baby for Mr and Mrs Bikerman".
Now this decision is NOT made lightly and it IS made with some conditions attached to it but it is made out of me wanting to keep my sanity intact and the ability to move forward rather than keep treading water while feeling like I'm drowning, which is what I've felt like I've been doing since my last miscarriage in Feb.
In order for me to even slightly be able to move on from ttc, I need to give it one more shot. And so I'm giving it 11 months. 334 [approx] days in order to get knocked up with a sprog. Gee when I put it out there like that, it sounds so easy LOL. Come the end of June next year, if we have not been successful, then so be it. It WILL be hard, it will be challenging and it will be upsetting and sad if we do have to walk away from ttc without being successful but I need my sanity back and I need to be able to at least start on the road to healing but not before I give it another crack. Not to mention that in 11 months, I will be 31 and DH will be 41 and while it may be fine for some to keep trying into their 40's I know it's something DH struggles with and it would be extremely selfish of me to expect him to continue trying beyond a point where he isn't comfortable in doing so.
I'm coming up to the part of my cycle that Bikerman and I should be getting freaky (I've already warned him, his quaking in his boots I tell ya!).
Next week I'm making enquiries into hiring a treadmill. Everytime I feel like eating choccie and anything else that tastes devine but is bad for me, I shall instead, walk my lil booty off on the treadmill.
This will not only improve my health but it will shrink my booty and hopefully increase my chances of getting knocked up and having a viable pregnancy.
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