They say God never gives you more than you can handle. Well if that's the case he sure is testing my strength and I'm failing miserably. Due to the constant break-downs I'm having I'd say I'm officially at my breaking point and I can't handle anything else. I'm folding under the pressure.
I know now that if I don't give up on my own that I'm going to drive myself crazy. I'm becoming withdrawn and I can feel myself slipping into a depressive state yet again. I was able to dig myself out before but this time around I'm not sure if I can do it. The more I hold on to hope the more I get "reminders" that motherhood just may not be in the cards for me. My fear is if I don't let it go willingly and accept it now that I'm setting myself up for a massive fail later. A fail that will ultimately destroy me and possibly my marriage. So no maternity pictures showing off my baby-bump or decorating a nursery. No pitter-patter of little feet around my house or being called mommy. No yearly family pictures showing off our growing household. No extension of myself or my husband. That's just not going to be our path.
So with that being said on the night of January 24, 2011 I curled up on my sofa alone...sobbed as quietly as possible...and then I "willingly" accepted my defeat.