A year.

If I wasn't a lazy blogger I would look up the words to that Rent song that goes on about numbers and moments and how we measure a year.  But you all know what I'm talking about and likely now have that song stuck in your head.  You're welcome.

Here's how I measured last year:
Jan-March: try, try, try again, nope, nope, nope.
April: surgery to remove polyp.  HOPE.  Nope.
May-August: try, try, try, try, nope to the 4th power.
September: lap for 1-2 stage endo removal.
October: HOPE it WILL be my month. IT has to be, I didn't go through surgery for nothing.  Nope.
November: What a blessed 5th anniversary this could be.  Nope.
December: I have so much hope for you, you beautiful cycle.  Granted, I'm the freak that has normal cycles, great mucus, wonderful response to meds so most cycles are "beautiful."   DH and I were on vacation during peak and made the most of it and I had so much hope, so much faith.  I could almost feel the life being created in me.  Until a few days ago.  I do blame this "hope bottoming out" on hormones, it has to be.  I was so strong and happy and faithful until about peak plus 9 and then those the thoughts of "it just isn't going to happen" started creeping back. 

On to a new year.  Not out of the game yet, but as I type I can feel the all too familiar twinges of failure brewing in my pelvis. 

This will be a great year though.  I will graduate from graduate school this year.  I will hopefully be able to obtain a new job to use my MSW.  Hopefully this will be the year that DH gets his much desired principal position.  We'll be another year closer to being out of debt.  And, I'll turn 35.   This means we only have 10 more cycles to try to get pregnant.  So 2012, you'll either be a year of a blessing of a child or the blessing of laying down this cross of pain and moving forward to what God really has planned for me not what I hoped was His plan.