Borrowed and SO TRUE

I read this on http://bake-a-lot.blogspot.com/ and she SO hit the nail on the head:
I want to be a mom. But I can't. Instead, I'm a mom wannabe. I want to procreate. I want to conceive a child naturally with my husband, in the privacy of our home, with love and passion. But I can't. Instead, I take horrible meds that make fat, bloated, over heated, and nauseous with swollen ovaries! I want to have sore breasts and be totally exhausted, then discover that my period is several days late. I want to buy a pregnancy test and pee on a stick. I want to see a second line. I want to cry tears of joy for the news we'd discover. I want to surprise my husband with the news that he is going to be a daddy. I want to see the look on his face. But I can't. Instead, I cry tears of pain every month when it doesn't happen and I cry to my husband, "Why??". I feel so lost since there is no explained reason why I am not pregnant and this adds to the frustration. I want to experience morning sickness. I want my hormones to go haywire because I am pregnant not because of all the meds I am on. I want the 'pregnant glow.' I want to have my husband talk to my belly. But I can't. I want to eat for two. I want to schedule my first doctor's visit. I want to sit in the waiting room with other pregnant women and know that I am one of them. But I can't. Instead, I wonder if those pregnant women ever had problems conceiving and if they are taking that little miracle for granted. I think how cute they look as they waddle with their big bellies. I smile at babies that are not mine. I ache from loving someone I've never met. I want to hear the Doctor say, "You're pregnant. Your progress is right on schedule." But I can't. Instead, I hear my well-meaning friends and family say "just relax." Wow! If I had known anxiety was an effective form of birth control, I'd have tried it years ago! I think I just might throw something next time someone tells me to relax. I wanted to surprise my parents with a new grandchild; but it get harder and harder not to explain the delay.....I know they must wonder "Are they ever having kids". I want to read What to Expect When You're Expecting. But I can't. Instead, I read When Empty Arms Leave a Heavy Burden. I want to wear maternity clothes and rub my belly. I don’t want to have to use an elastic to loosen my pants because I am so bloated it hurts! I don’t want to put on 25lbs because of all the meds. I want to monitor the progress. I want to see the ultrasounds. I want to hear the heartbeat. I want stretch marks. I want to watch our baby grow. I want to feel the kicks. I want to be measured. But I can't. Instead, I give hundreds of vials of blood, get poked and prodded and have extremely painful tests. I pray for my eggs to grow and pray they fertilize. I examine every bodily secretion that comes out of my body, hoping and praying for spotting at just the right times, and no spotting at others. I wait. I pray. I wait for the one phone call that can make our life better. Or worse. I want to decorate the nursery. I want to childproof our home. I want to shop for adorable, soft, tiny outfits. I want to go to Gymboree. I want to save money for the baby's future. But I can't. Instead, I imagine a crib in the empty room down the hall. I avoid the baby stores in the mall and I spend all my money on fertility meds, ovulation predictor kits and pregnancy tests. I want to be the one to excuse myself to go nurse my baby. Instead, I'm the one stuck at the table with all the husbands. I want to use a car seat. I want to pump. I want to have my baby throw up all over me. I want to change dirty diapers. I want to give baths. I want to watch my husband hold our baby from across the room. But I can't. Instead, I watch him with our nieces and love the way he loves them, but get my heart broken each time I see it. I want to see him love OUR baby. I want to tell my friends about how my baby learned to roll over, or say da-da, or how he took his diaper off and threw it across the room. I want to buy my baby new shoes. But I can't. Instead, we will spend our money on doctor appointments, tests and high tech procedures. We will spend our money on a dream. We may be left with an empty bank account. We may be left with empty arms. I want to share the experience with my pregnant friends. I want to compare symptoms. I want to be the guest of honor at a baby shower. But I can't. Instead, I watch my friends get pregnant quickly. I watch their bellies grow, attend and throw their showers, see their pictures and try to be a good friend. I watch their lives change and our friendships change in front of my eyes. I want my belly to drop. I want my water to break. I want contractions. I want my husband by my side and my family in the waiting room. I want the pushing. I want the pain. I want to hear the cry. But I can't. Instead, I feel a different pain. I hear my own cry. I want to hold our baby in my arms, with tears of joy streaming down our faces. I want the nurses to take a picture of us when our baby is only minutes old. I want to experience the miracle of birth, thinking, "We did it!". But I can't. Instead, I hold my husband in my arms with tears of sorrow streaming down our faces and wonder what God's plan is for us and why we have to go through this. I want to pray that one extra special blessing be added to my life. And I do. I pray my 1000th unanswered prayer to God and hope that this time He answers. I pray that someday soon, He will give it to us. I want to be a mom. --- But I can't. Instead, I praying for a change in status from a mom wannabe . . . to the mom I want to be.