Someone said insanity is doing something more than once and expecting a different result. So why am I trying a 33rd time?
Sometimes everything just goes according to plan. All the pieces come together and you can’t help but think this is meant to be.
If one more person tells me some version of “just be patient” again, I might make them a hospital patient.
“Don’t lose hope!”
Thinking about expanding our family revolves around spreadsheets and budgeting tools. It revolves around calculators and FSA accounts and numbers that start to swim together on the screen as my eyes well up with tears.
Christmas is my favorite. While I am not the biggest fan of being cold, I love the sleepy atmosphere when all the trees and grass fall asleep under a blanket of snow. I love the bustle of people in the kitchen preparing food that could feed a small army. I love the excitement of finding the perfect gift for a difficult-to-buy-for family member. I love the giving nature people adopt and the smiles that are given so freely. The twinkling lights adorning homes and the smell of the fire and fir tree inside make me so content.
It’s not even a service they are selling. They’re selling dreams.
My last post held letters to my future “baby bee.” Those letters hold everything I want my child to know: that (s)he is loved, wanted, and prayed for. But there are things those letters lack: the anger, the pain, the struggle. Sure, they make mention of those, briefly. But they really don’t accurately represent the negative thoughts. And why should they? Eventually, when those letters are handed down, I don’t want the burden of the hardship I faced (am facing) to be felt by my son/daughter. So I leave them out. But if I were 100% honest, this is what the letters would look like: