It Still Hurts...

     Most days I am okay. Good, even. But now that several of my friends have/ are on their third child, emotions begin running deep again. In particular, those who have their third child while their eldest is still three. These families are my trigger. I still long for a three-child family, so badly some days. And for whatever reason, the very closely spaced siblings are what make me mourn our loss the most. My realistic self tries to tell this part of me that life would likely have been utter chaos for us, and not in a good way. I mean, I'm sure we would have muddled through, but it wouldn't have been pleasant. So, it seems illogical for me to feel this way. But, regardless, this is how I feel.

      Anyway, after having a rough day with yet another pregnancy announcement, I unfortunately stumbled across these absolutely gorgeous paintings. Generally, I wouldn't describe myself as an art appreciator, but these caught my eye. I followed the link to her facebook page for the one of the woman in a hospital bed. After reading the comments and interpretations of that piece, the tears began to flow once more. This piece obviously resonated the most with me and my birth experiences, and I realized how starkly contrast that piece was to most of her other home/ water birth pieces, and yet again how absolutely robbed I feel of that experience, and the potential to ever have that experience again. 

Anyway, I guess that is everything in a nut shell. Hasn't been a great night. Although, the one ray I do have is that at least now I feel like I just need to cry about these things as a form of release instead of nearly drowning in a depression type wave. I think that's a step in the right direction.