Whoa...its been awhile since I was last on here! I've been meaning to blog, but at the end of the day I'm just too darned drained (or lazy) to work up the motivation to write anything. I'm pretty much speaking in tongues by 9pm anyway. Just kidding. Things have actually been going really well (knock on wood). Hayden has been sleeping like a champ. She'll usually take her last feeding between 10-11 and then go down until 6-8am. I really can't complain about that at 7 1/2 weeks old!

Hayden has quite the little character. She's a little love...has been smiling for about three weeks now and is coo'ing and making other noises. I even got a little giggle out of her. She's also working on batting at her toys and grasping. Alex is loving the fact that "her baby" can now smile and "talk" to her. I love seeing them together. Sometimes I still can't believe that they are ours. That we made them.

The other day I was driving around a neighborhood near our old house. I was looking at landscaping, trying to get ideas for our new house (every house is pretty much professionally landscaped there). Anyway, it is the development that I always used to run in, trying to get myself as fit as possible to carry a pregnancy. And the memories came flooding back. Of pushing myself, thinking if I could just get fitter, that my pcos would "go away" and I would get pregnant on my own. I remember going on a run through that development, pretty much wailing, because I found out a girl that I knew just had her baby (an old "friend" who rubbed her pregnancy in my face when she knew I was having trouble). I remember going on walks through there, trying to clear my head, and seeing all these "family" houses with toys outside and swing sets. Sometimes I felt like I was torturing myself, running through that development-filled with young families.

I still remember all of it. All of those feelings. All that hurt. And I still think that infertility will always be a part of who I am (although I'm sure to a different extent as life moves on). I wonder if I will ever hear a story about someone getting pregnant after a month or by accident, and be completely unaffected by it? Or will some tiny, miniscule part always be jealous? It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction now, a habit to feel that way. And I certainly don't want any more kids right now, but there's still a part of me that hears those stories and a little twinge of longing fills me. Maybe it's because I know that the option to "just have" another child is really not open to us. Having another baby would involve medical assistance. And with two healthy (knock on wood) little girls, I'm pretty certain that part of my life is finished.  I don't even know that we want to try the natural way for a third. I'm thinking we are happy with two. But the point is-most people have the option to "just see what happens".

But this longing is becoming less and less. In some big ways, infertility was a gift. I have the two girls I have because of it! I'm stronger because of it! I don't take parenthood for granted because we fought every step of the way for it. And I think that I'm that much more patient and "present" because of it. And I know I've helped other women going through it. And that gives me SO much satisfaction. So really, things have worked out the way they were supposed to. I cannot imagine having different children, and I would have if it weren't for PCOS.