Ahhhhh good old accountability.
If I put my goals for the week in writing, then you lovely people will be anxiously awaiting my status updates. And I can't disappoint. So here are my goals for the week:
Physical Health
1) Stay within my Weight Watchers Points range for each day
2) Go to the gym three times this week
3) Eat a fruit or vegetable with every meal
4) Begin C25K Program
Emotional Health
1) Set aside 30 minutes each day for meditation
2) Complete one act of charity
General Goals
1) Paint and install foyer closet door
2) Finish Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
3) Pick out a paint color for the foyer!
Stay tuned for updates!
I started this blog as a way to chronicle the journey of my husband and I battling infertility to start a family; but on July 24th 2014 my life forever changed when my beloved passed away in a car accident. Now I'm trying to work my way through, one day at a time.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
The Missing
There are so many things I'm afraid of. Of course I'm afraid of never being a mother. That's a given; hell, that's what this whole blog is about. But that's not what keeps me up at night. The little things keep me up. The intrinsic details of what being a mother is. I miss them already, in anticipation of the worst coming true.
The feeling of my child stirring within me. The anticipation. Hearing a heartbeat. The excitement on my husband's face. The birth.
Bringing a new Valentine home from the hospital. Watching Tom become a father in front of me. Seeing things for the first time through a child's eyes. Hearing new laughter. Being a family.
I mourn for these things already. It's a defense mechanism. Just in case. I want to get over the devastation before the devastation takes place. But with every passing month my heart breaks a little more. Every announcement I hear. Every birth that takes place. Families becoming complete all around me.
I wear these fears like a badge that no one can see. No one except for the women who are also going through it. We nod at each other in observance of these wounds we're carrying. Holding hands wordlessly, kindred in the things we are missing.
The feeling of my child stirring within me. The anticipation. Hearing a heartbeat. The excitement on my husband's face. The birth.
Bringing a new Valentine home from the hospital. Watching Tom become a father in front of me. Seeing things for the first time through a child's eyes. Hearing new laughter. Being a family.
I mourn for these things already. It's a defense mechanism. Just in case. I want to get over the devastation before the devastation takes place. But with every passing month my heart breaks a little more. Every announcement I hear. Every birth that takes place. Families becoming complete all around me.
I wear these fears like a badge that no one can see. No one except for the women who are also going through it. We nod at each other in observance of these wounds we're carrying. Holding hands wordlessly, kindred in the things we are missing.
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