Boo hormones!

In case I haven't already made this spectacularly clear by now, I really, really, REALLY want to be a mommy someday.  But being that I'm 35 and divorced, I've realized the chances of my lifelong dream coming to fruition are slim.  Some may call that being pessimistic, I call it being realistic.  I'm not saying it won't ever happen, but I know it is unlikely.

So, in order to prevent myself from falling into a black hole of depression over it, I repress the desire.  Most of the time that works pretty well for me.  I can delight in my friends' children, squeal and coo over adorable kiddie photos that pop up in my Facebook news feed umpteen times a day, happily attend baby showers, and genuinely be excited upon news of a friend's BFP or brand new bundle of joy.  Then that time of the month before that time of month rears it's ugly head and unlocks the door to a place I keep buried very deep down inside me.

Tonight it's that time of the month.  The time before the fatigue, before the cramps start, before the Midol. 
It's like Aunt Flo's evil twin sister (if you can get more evil than Aunt Flo) arrived and waved her magic wand.  Presto, change-o!  Just like that, Wendy's been transformed from happy admirer of her friends' lovely families to sad and very envious.  Boo, stupid hormones!

I just have to get through the next week and hopefully I'll be back to my happier, less jealous self after I relock the "mommy door" and go back to repressing my baby urges.  At least until next month....