Not Christmas. Not Mother's Day. Halloween is the hardest day of the year for me.
For years I dreamed about being pregnant at Halloween. I was going to draw on a white t-shirt and have my pregnant belly go as a baseball. Silly I know. And it probably wouldn't have even looked that good. But my dad is a die hard baseball fan and it was just one of those things I always daydreamed about.
I would also daydream about going to fall festivals and dressing up in costumes and going trick or treating and hosting Halloween parties for my kids.
When I first started trying to get pregnant, three months had passed by the time Halloween arrived. And I was NOT a chill "it'll happen when it'll happen" kind of woman trying to get pregnant. No, once my husband agreed to try I wanted it to happen immediately. I was beyond ready. So I was very sad when it didn't happen right away. When Halloween came around I consoled myself by saying, "This time next year I'll be pregnant or have a baby."
Then the next Halloween came and I thought, "It's okay. This time next year I'll be pregnant or have a baby." Halloween became a time marker of sorts for me.
Then the next Halloween came and I had started fertility treatments and I thought again, "This time next year I'll be pregnant or have a baby."
Then by the next Halloween I had decided to stop fertility treatments for good and I thought, "Well, maybe I'll be one of those women that gets pregnant after years of trying and failed treatments."
This Halloween I am not saying any of those things to myself anymore.
It's hard. Letting go of a lifelong dream is not easy.
I'm thankful I have such happy memories about Halloween from my own childhood. I'm thankful I'm working toward rebuilding my life. I'm thankful I don't feel stuck in infertility limbo anymore.
And one day I will feel well enough to get dressed up again and pass out candy to trick or treaters. But I am not there yet.