Can I come clean?

Because this is killing me.

I wanted kids two years apart.  Or less, really, but two seemed like a more sane number than one. 

My daughter turns two next month.  So can you guess how long I've been trying to get pregnant?

I know how super blessed I am.  How wonderful my daughter is, and my life.  I'm lucky I'm not dealing with the thought of "What if I can never get pregnant?  Never have a kid?"  Because dealing with this has given me a greater understanding of what it might feel like to deal with that, though I'm sure it sucks a whole lot more.  But it still sucks to deal with this. 

Being as we already have one daughter, conceived without the use of fertility meds, we have no known issues.  Other than that I occasionally have (very) long cycles and a fuzzy diagnosis of PCOS. 

Writing all this out, I feel like a whole lot more of a bitch.  Because I have dear friends who I know have faced much more insurmountable odds than this.  That's the beauty and the peril of a blog, I suppose. 

But one more thing.  Completely unrelated.  Our house was broken into the other night.  I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a loud bang and our (now knighted) dog barking.  I peered out of our second floor bathroom window, into our backyard.  The motion detector light was on, and it looked like the gate into our backyard was ajar.  After a few minutes, when the barking had ended, I watch a skinny black man start to walk back into our yard.

I yelled to scare the guy off.  But here's the best part, the part my husband thinks is hilarious.  I yelled "Scram!"  The whitest thing you could say, apparently. 

Then I woke my husband, who was grumpy and disbelieving that anything worthy of waking up for had happened.  We went downstairs and thought it was overkill to call the cops, until we realized the screen into our kitchen had been cut. 

So we called the cops.  We didn't see anything missing, thanks (no doubt) to our knighted dog Vito.  The cops were at our door by the time we were off the phone.  I described the guy, they set some dogs loose to try to track him and told us to "stay inside".  But nothing. 

It wasn't until two days later that I realized they stole my camera, which had been sitting prominently on the kitchen table.  So they were definitely inside our house.  The upsdide?  We've gotten to know several of our neighbors much better, as we stopped at their porches to tell the our story in the interest of public safety and neighborhood well being.  Another updside: I will be getting a new camera.  But burglar, if you read this blog, it will no longer be sitting on my kitchen table.  Also, I buy cheap cameras that just happen to look expensive, so there are probably better things to grab.

As upsetting as the burglary should be, it's really the first woe that's keeping me up at night.  It's the second woe that's keeping DH up at night.  But I have no doubt that both of these woes will be keeping my mother up at night.