Tell me to stress less, one more time!

It's been exactly a year.

12 months of trying.

Trying to stay positive,

trying to stress less.

Trying to conceive.

This is fuckin' bullshit. When is the joke over?

The one gift a woman's body has is to give life.

The absolute heartache at failing this each and every month gets too much. Accumulating each attempt. I feel lonelier and lonelier as each month passes.

At first all your friend are full of encouragement. You enthusiastically track all your bodily functions and fluids because that's what you read everywhere as the definite answer to conceiving.

A few months pass, you think this is the worst it could feel.
Your friends tell you "Just don't think about it, it'll happen."
But it doesn't.

More months, more attempts, you try every dietary tip, sex position and app there is out there. You google every symptom, ache and feeling hoping that the search results give you
"CONGRATS, YOU'RE PREGNANT!"
But Google's an ass and never gives your the answer you want.

As you try to vent to your friends they tell you once more, "Just don't stress, it'll happen."
After this long, you're finally fed up hearing it, it becomes an insult, a slap in the face with good intentions. How does one not stress at failing the one thing their body should be able to do?

Tell me?

So, sick of hearing the well intentioned, shitty advice from everyone- and a lack of real miracle solutions- you turn inward.
You stop talking to anyone about it, you don't want to see the discomfort they try to hide, the awkwardness written on their face "I have no more cheerful sayings."
But you also don't want to be advertising your failures anymore. You're ashamed.

This isn't funny anymore.
You think to yourself, you don't want hubby to be feeling down, he's got the all clear, you know it's not a pressure on him. He does his bit, right?

Now you have those moments- that seem to occur even more often now- where you randomly, absolutely, pathetically break down because you can't get pregnant. It's not even after negative tests anymore, it's almost weekly now with no forewarning. Trying to hide it from hubby, dear hubby, who doesn't know what to say. He just holds you and lets you cry your eyes out as he's probably thinking "Where did this come from?"

A few weeks ago, I told him I felt alone. Incredibly alone, that I had no one to talk to about all this. That no one wants to hear it anymore. He suggested a counsellor.
I thought to myself, how about a blog.

He doesn't even know yet.

I just need to put it out there.

Now I've vented, I can move on to the more positive.

I HOPE!