This was the first time I ever got my hopes up. Even the first few times I always told myself it wouldn’t happen even though I wanted nothing more than for it to. This was the time I got excited, the time I rubbed my belly like it was some sort of good luck charm, the time I stopped drinking alcohol just in case, the time I actually “had a feeling” I was pregnant.

I guess some of you feel this way every month. I’ve not allowed myself to get my hopes up out of fear of disappointment, and I thought this time was different. This battle is hard. It’s exhausting, it’s frustrating, and it feels a lot like inadequacy. Here’s to hoping it’s your month, and if it’s not there’s always next month.