It's time.

I haven't wanted to write this blog post. 

I've put it off for almost a year. 

But, it has become evident that God wants me to write it and put it out there. 

He's used dear friends, random occurrences, blog posts, and Scripture to show me that my story is important--and thought it is difficult, it's time to get it out. 

Last year I wrote a blog post called "Someday Baby". 

I wrote about having "baby fever" and our thoughts on starting a family. 

Well, it's been over two years now since those first thoughts of excitement and fear--wondering if I was pregnant, lively discussions over baby names, Pinterest pins, and hopes for the future. 

Two years. 

You see, I have PCOS. 

Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. 

I've done hours upon hours of research about this syndrome and I'm still not even really sure what's wrong with me. And you know what? That's how I feel. I feel like something is wrong with me. I mean, wasn't I created to do this? To birth children? To raise a family? To re-create? And yet, somehow, I'm broken. 

I apologize for the negativity. That's why I didn't want to do this--didn't want to write down these feelings. Because writing them down makes them more real; I have to feel these feelings all over again and as you may have realized by now, this sucks.

Last week we all celebrated Mother's Day. 

I had so many mothers to celebrate, especially my own. But I must admit that there was a big part of me that was fighting the sadness. Fighting the feelings of overwhelming despair and insufficiency. 

Will I ever be able to celebrate Mother's Day as a mother? 

Most days I don't feel the sad. Most days pass by normally, marriage and work and friends and church and cat and cleaning and music and cooking and crafting and driving and worship and life. But there are moments--holding a friend's sleeping child in my arms, watching a father twirl his little daughter, hearing a mother comfort her toddler at the store, seeing baby shoes--when my heart aches. 

And I'm not sure what the point of this blog post really is. I'm not depressed or insanely jealous or going crazy. I'm not sick or constantly worried or even unhappy with my life. I'm just currently not a mother, wanting to be, and experiencing confusion and heartache sometimes. 

And, I guess, I just wanted you to know.