The 'usually' days and the 'sometimes' days

I am usually fine talking about babies. Especially sharing au-pair stories (I was one) with my coworker who has a 12-months old or my boss who has an 11-months old. When should I start feeding him adult food? Is it ok if he still doesn't walk? What do I do when he "pushes my buttons"? Even though I do not have one of my own, I feel very passionate about raising children.

I am usually not so bad seeing pregnant women, especially friends and family members. The happiness just shines from them and they look so cute in their little pregnancy blouses. Or speculating with other friends whether so-and-so is pregnant just not telling yet, as she wasn't drinking at the Super Bowl party.

I am usually ok looking at ultrasound pictures. Trying to figure out where the heck the baby's head is and then seeing the subtitle: "the leg". :) Or the 3D ones, where babies look like little play-dough creatures, with their smooth little noses and chubby little hands.

But that's usually. And sometimes it's all different.

Sometimes every glance at a pregnant woman makes me think that I will never be able to feel what she feels. The morning sickness, the back pain, the weight gain, the tiredness. The happiness.

Sometimes the bare mention of an ultrasound brings up memories from the doomed day we found out that our baby was dead. The confusion on my husband face and the tears in his eyes. The hospital, D&C, and the weeks of crying after.

Somtimes I think that the 6 months wait will never end. And even if it does, I will get a HCG rise on my last blood draw and will need more chemo. And even when I make it through to the end of the wait, we will never get pregnant again because of my age. And even if we somehow manage to get pregnant after months or years of trying, it will be another molar because my eggs are all messed up anyway.

And then I come online, all feeling sorry for myself, and read. And I see the stories of girls loosing their babies at 20 or 30 weeks or even later. Girls dealing with HCG rising, going through hard core chemo for several months, switching to even more hard core chemo, having crazy side effects. Or the ones who are finally negative but now are sentenced to not 6 but 12 long months of waiting. And I feel that I should be actually thankful and happy because I got out easily! But it's so hard to feel happy on the sometimes day.