I never thought I would be 34 TTC. I was always the aunt or the one who traveled the world and lived free. I made bad choices, and lived like I would die tomorrow at some times. But here I am, 34 TTC and married. Did I mess up? I was pregnant at 18 on accident and scared to death. I ended that pregnancy. Now here I am, hoping I’m not paying for that. Hoping I can conceive and actually give a child the home I know they deserve. I feel like I’ve been obsessed. I temp every morning and pee on a stick. Track track track. I just want to stop! But alas, I want that joy of a baby growing inside me, who will look like me and my husband. So I persist. Thanks for listening.