Ready To Rumble

I don't think our first therapy session can come soon enough. I want this to work so badly. I want us to work so badly, but I am not happy right now. I am sure he knows that I am not happy, but it is an unsaid screen between us. I am not sure if this adventure to therapy will help us any, but if this weekend was any indication of our less than happy situation, I will be willing to walk on hot coals and broken glass to prevent more times like this.



I am not sure what is going through my husband's mind at this time, but I can say from my point of view, that I am nervous as hell that we will go into that office and come out with the knowledge that we should walk away from each other. The last thing I want to do is to end our 8 years. But I also do not want to give up my chance at having children. I have given him 8 years of my life, and plan to give him however many more I have left.



I read a very scary statistic today that really brings it all home for me. 35% of women diagnosed with cervical cancer will have a recurrence of the disease. This is a very unhappy thing for me to think about. If I am diagnosed with cervical cancer again, my chance at having kids goes right out the window. They take out my entire reproductive system. If they leave my ovaries, which they most likely won't, the only way I would have a child is via surrogate. I lose the experience of being pregnant, which just isn't acceptable.



But while that outlook looks grim, I don't want that to be the reason that Steven wants children. I want him to say, "I can't wait to be a father, please have a baby and make me a complete man." Then I say "Yes, of course!" He carries me to the bedroom. After the most beautiful love making, I look up and declare "I am with child!" Then I wake up, and laugh at my imagination, because I have been reading too many romance novels.



When I post tomorrow about therapy, I really hope my attitude will be better. It is not fun to wake up next to the man you love and force yourself to kiss him hello and goodbye. I am mad, and hurt, no amount of good morning kisses will fix that. Especially since I see babies and baby related items where ever I go. I go to sleep holding a baby in my imagination, and I wake up hoping some day soon, it won't be a dream.