Whenever I start to feel sorry for myself

I just need to read back through some of the more difficult times I wrote about on this blog. The fertility drugs, the anxiety, the pain at the thought of never having children.

The reminders of all of those things bring me back to "center". And in the grand scheme, having a head cold that won't go away and spending Christmas apart from my family are not the worst things in the world.

I have so much to be thankful for today, that I feel a little guilty for wasting an ounce of my time or energy feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I feel pretty rotten (those of us who "never get sick" are the biggest cry-babies on the planet when we do), and a little lonely, but I have two amazing little boys growing under my heart, sharing my body for a few last days. I have a husband to love and be loved by in return. I have three furry babies who keep me amused with their antics, and settle my restlessness with their cuddling and their gentle, wordless love.

I am blessed with hope for the future, a warm and happy home, and the knowledge that my work, as an incubator, is nearly done, and my work as a mother just beginning.

While anxious and a bit afraid of what the immediate future will bring--the unknowns of giving birth, I am also finding a certain serenity, knowing it is inevitable, that whether I fear or embrace the pain will affect how I perceive and experience it, that it is within my control, and that after all is said and done, I will have not only my boys to hold, but a new understanding of my self and my body.

Impatience and patience are tangled up together now, and I work through them like a knot, untangling this little bit of patience, and then that little bit of impatience, and experiencing both with a curious duality that I didn't know existed in my nature.

Whenever I feel sorry for myself, now and in the future, I can find this post, my Christmas post the year that I was pregnant, and remember how blessed I am.