The words I’ve been asked 40 times this week as a coworker announced her pregnancy.

The sweet, kind gesture my dear friends passed along my way. They wanted to make sure that my heart was okay because they know my journey. They know my longing, my struggle and my plans.

Knowing their heart was in the right place I smiled and said of course. I’m sure they didn’t believe me but didn’t want to press the issue.

The truth is, I don’t wish this journey on my worst enemy. I don’t wish anyone the daily pain of the lives you’ve held and lost. The emptiness of waiting for something that you may never get. The disappointment that comes with each month. It’s a self-induced horror show.

The other truth is, I’ve become an expert at separating my love for my friends and their successes and my own journey. I can feel the overwhelming joy for the experiences my friends are having, wishing them the greatest lives they can live. I can hold their babies or see their bellies focused solely on how excited I am for them. I went through a really hard time after my first miscarriage when I found out other friends were pregnant. I was so wrapped up in my own bullshit I couldn’t handle it. Afterward, I felt horrible about the choices I made and came to terms with the fact that feeling this way would ruin my life if I continued to act this way. My friends and family will continue to have wonderful moments and I need to be able to participate fully without envy or jealousy or resentment. So I’ve worked hard and I’ve come a long way and I am proud of where I am with it all.

But those three little words were tough. Every time I focused on the truth but it was just a reminder that I still wasn’t there. But its OK, I keep pretending I have triplets in there. Two boys and a girl. Why not dream big!