Five Years!

Happy Five year Anniversary to us! It has been the most challenging yet rewarding five years of my life, here's to many more!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Beautiful bag!

I just ordered this amazing bag from Moop! I have the smaller messenger bag but this one now fits my laptop and is the perfect size to carry with me to Chicago next weekend...hooray!
If you have never checked out Moop before, I would highly suggest it. Their bags are all handmade and worth the extra money.

(image via Moop shop)

Have fun!

It's always good to have fun. Sometimes we just need a little reminder!

When what you have could be enough

I picked my son up this morning, squeezed him tight and told him I loved him. We were playing on the bed and in between his shrieks of excitement and lusty laughs I would cuddle him close, his legs wrapped tightly around my middle, his arms around my neck. We lingered on a hug, his sweet face next to mine and in his little three year old voice he chirped "Mommy, I love you too." I gave him a kiss on his round flushed cheek and we continued to play.
Lately my mind has been ruminating and agonizing over the question of whether or not to have another child. Right after loosing our daughter at 22 weeks, my reaction was an instant and decisive no, I could not imagine allowing that possibility to ever happen again, my woman parts were officially closed for business. I thought for a while that her death was a sign from the universe and I shouldn't tempt fate, like someone was whispering in my ear "you have one healthy child, don't get greedy." A couple months after Lily's death, around her July due date, that idea to try again began to take root. It seemed a simple question on par with "would you like dressing or no dressing on your salad? Should we have another baby now, or wait a bit later?" I didn't let my ovaries take over. I suspected this was a reaction to my feeling like I was denied something and wanting to make that emptiness whole again. I wanted to say "fuck you, universe or whatever divine intervention has caused this" but having another baby out of revenge was not the answer. I sat with my desires, I took a class, I had beers with my husband and played with my son in the warm summer sun. The leaves turned from green to yellow and finally orange and red. The trees sat naked in the frigid temps of winter, until finally robins appeared and my winter boots were put back in the closet. My desire for another baby had hibernated along with the rest of Minnesota that winter. I sit waiting now, for the answer, and the question I ask myself everyday is "do I want another child and will I regret it if I decide to let my son grow up with out a sibling?" After dealing with depression during both of my pregnancies I am faced with the very real fact that the dark fog would return, only heavier and darker next time. Am I selfish for only considering myself and my own well being? Sometimes it seems that way and I know that only I can make the right decision for me. I see women bowled over with joy while pregnant and I find myself trying to figure out why I can't seem to conjure up that emotion for myself. This may be the universe's way of saying i'm not ready yet, but I still am holding out hope that when I know, I will know, regardless of if I end up with another baby or not.

Daydream

Doesn't this look amazing!

(photo via A cup of Jo)

A bit of fiction

She wanted to live her life as if everyday could be her last. She wanted to take risks, love with out abandon and have many more children. She wanted to live differently, maybe by the sea or perhaps on the edge of a great mountain cliff. Then other times she found the everyday conveniences of the city, such as coffee around the corner or a quick movie with a friend, to be comforting. If she decided that that day she desired a vanilla cone dipped in cherry, it was there, just up the road. Really, she could give in to any craving or longing she had whenever she felt like it.
There were times though, when she felt great despair. Getting her son ready for school everyday, cooking and cleaning while her husband worked long hours were beginning to take their toll. Some days she could barely will herself to get out of bed. Changing a diaper felt like she had walked ten miles and getting dressed seemed like an all together pointless activity. She couldn't figure out why doing the dishes one day was a simple task, one that took little effort whereas, other days the simple act of opening her eyes felt like a weight that she was unprepared to lift. For many years these moods would plague her existence, until one day. The mail came as usual that day. Catalogs, bills, coupons to the local pizza place and then a letter, addressed to her. She looked for a return address, but nothing gave any clues as to who it was from. Inside it read All along I knew it was you, it's always been you. I'm ready if you are... ......to be continued