Everyday on the way to work I pass this quaint little daycare. It's always glowing as I slow down in the dark and fog in those wee hours of the morning. There is always the perfect family, a young professional couple dropping their child off for a day of fun and adventure as they go to their lavish careers and big business jargon. I dream about what the little girl in the pink dress is doing all day. I wonder if her parents understand what they actually have and how many people want it. 
Oh how I yearn to conceive. I've been struggling for 32 months to get pregnant, every cycle trying something different, but nothing seems to stick. OPK's, lubricants, BBT's, trackers, ovulation regulators; yet still nothing. The doctors seem to have no explanation and just tell me to keep trying. My husband continues to drink because he knows nothing he can do will make me happy. I hate him for it. I hate him for not being able to give me life, but deep inside I know only the good Lord himself can give me a gift so precious. Every cycle I wait patiently to take a test and see if it is finally my turn to join the mother club, and every 28-31 days like clock work menstruation comes to stab me in the heart and I bleed out. Those four days of bleeding feel like the crucifixion knowing I will never contribute to the world and my legacy continues to die. When will my day come for a little girl in a pink dress?