Bébé Maybe

I sporadically wrote in a diary between the ages of 7-20. I stopped when I noticed that I only wrote in it when I was angry or sad. When I read it now, Marissa of the Past sounds so depressed. I wasn't. It's just that I never wrote about the happy moments. My diary was an outlet to vent or complain or wallow. So far that's what this blog has been like. I'm feeling much more positive right now, so I'll try to lighten the mood. We've been back home in America for just over two weeks. This sounds cheesy, but I feel like the sun has come out. I'm happier, my husband's happier, and we both feel optimistic about our future. Not only about this issue, but about everything. He's been job-hunting and I've been house-hunting. It feels so good to visit all of my favorite places and spend time with my family and puppy. It feels good to speak English. It feels good to have access to a library again. And don't forget the frozen custard- it feels r...

I let myself hope again. In the 10 months since I started tracking my cycle with an app on my phone, it has almost always been 26 or 27 days. Once it was 25, once it was 28. This month it was 29. That extra day killed me. I couldn't even sleep because I was so excited. I'm normally and naturally a pessimist. Have been my whole life. I like being a pessimist because I'm terrible at being an optimist. When I hope for something and it doesn't happen, I don't handle it well. My first thoughts this morning when the hope ended were... I suck. I'm stupid. I hate myself. I'm a failure of a wife. Of course something that great wouldn't happen to me. It would have been a miracle. It was our last chance for it to happen on our own before having to go to a doctor, admitting our problem, and getting tested to maybe find out the why. I'm so scared to talk with a doctor about something so private. I'm scared for any kind of medical testing. I...