Today, I am trying very hard not to be disappointed. I married my husband, understanding that he wanted a large family. That was okay with me as long as he understood that I needed time for myself, or time to spend with horses. Seven months after we made the decision to start trying, here I sit, ultimately confused by my inability to bear a child.
I feel as though I have been selfish somehow; that my love of horses and riding masks some sort of mortal flaw on my part. I have tried to let it go for the sake of our budget, but in the back of my mind, there is still the hope that I will one day find my perfect horse and be able to afford him. To admit to myself that my last ride was September 24, 2011 makes me want to cry.
I have had opportunities to ride since then, but always, the fear strikes as I step up that mounting block. Fear of what, I'm not sure. Once I am in the saddle, everything is fine. It's not as though I have fallen recently, but more that I have been in so much pain that the idea of actually getting my body to cooperate enough to have a successful ride seems impossible.
I thought I could throw myself into being an awesome wife, grow up a bit and finally leave the horse craziness behind. The problem is, I don't think that I can. My physical pain is getting worse, but it's no match for this depression that dogs me month after month as we remain childless. I need to cry on the shoulder of someone much stronger than I, someone who can carry me beyond the fear and the pain and help me to feel brave again. Maybe I haven't met him yet, but when I do, I'll know him by his kind eyes and soft nicker.