Lost

Do you ever just feel lost? It's not so much that you don't know exactly where you are, but more a case of you don't really know how you got there? That's the way I feel.
I know where I am. I'm working full-time for a job I don't hate but don't necessarily love either. I'm sitting on about three manuscripts I want to get published, but not sure how to get them that way. I'm 5 years past when I wanted to start having children. I'm living in a tiny apartment where I can usually find what I'm looking for but which we never completely unpacked because we didn't have room . . . and now seem to have less room. I'm married to a great guy, but sometimes it feels like we're just taking turns fighting this battle of infertility. I'm frustrated and down-hearted, but trying to be positive and think "it's only been two months of 100mg clomid. The doctor said we'd try for 6 months before giving up and going to something else." But every month is another heart-ache . . . and I've done the math. Assuming I have about 11 periods a year (this is assuming a lot since I'm not anything close to regular when I'm not on some sort of pill), my heart has been broken over the same thing close to sixty times now. And I keep picking up all the little tiny pieces and fitting them back together, taping them up again, hoping the glue will hold this time. I'm not giving up. I'm just trying to find a reason not to.
I was talking to a friend the other night who went through infertility and ended up adopting. She told me that they started out with the plan of adoption if everything else didn't work out. Their child is perfect for their family. Just what God had planned. And she said it helped her to remind herself that even if they didn't have a child "naturally," she would end up with a child no matter what because she knew she had that other route. Jeremy and I have always talked about adopting a kid or two eventually. We just never really thought it might be more something we needed to do to have kids at all. So, it is an option for us. And I know we'll have a child (or more) eventually. I don't know how or when or anything else that might resemble a detail. But I know that much.
I just need a map to get me from here . . . to there.