I'm done. No more tracking. No more temping. No more peeing on sticks every fucking day. No more getting hopeful or excited. No more letting my family down every time my body fails to do the one thing it's meant to. No more wasting thousands of dollars on medication and donated sperm every cycle. No more imagining what my baby will look like. No more referring to months as cycles. No more wanting to lie down and die every time my period shows up. No more. A year and a half now of constant disappointment. I don't know how anyone can do this for years and years and still have any semblance of hope. You're stronger people then me. This is one of the only things I have ever truly desired, and just like everything else in my life, it's been a colossal failure, a waste of time, money, and energy. I accept my fate. I should have never tried in the first place.