The messy part, two...

Source: punchfork.com via Natalie on Pinterest

Twenty-seven, 28, 29…the years started to creep up on me and disappear in a flash at the same time. I was enjoying life, living it up and treasuring every minute with a man I knew would be my husband, someday – even if I wasn’t ready to actually get married. Still, the thought quietly whispered in the back of my mind – Could I still have children? Would I be able to have children? 

I disregarded it mostly, thinking, “There’s one thing I am supposed to be in life and that’s a Mother. There’s positively no way that God would let me not be a Mom. Right?” 

I’ve known since I was a child that I was going to be a Mom. I was born with that Mom-gene that makes you desire to take care of everyone and everything, a desire to love everyone and everything, a compounding yearning to hold a child and look into the eyes of your own or your lover.

Just not yet…

Part three: Damn Clomid

Regret.

Source: None via Lauren on Pinterest

Regret. The only regrets I have are the moments when I don't follow my Grandfather's advice of "think before you speak." I must correct this because living with regret is a haunting disease of sadness - something I am trying to rid my life of. Life is too short to be sad, stupid or stale.

October nerves.

Source: bogley.com via Jamie on Pinterest

Time is flying by so quick. Part of me is excited, part is numb and part is afraid to be emotional. I know I just need to this move by the horns, but oh how I wish someone else would do so.

My to-do list for the week includes finalizing our home in RDU, selling the Mr's truck, visiting my Grandmother and finalizing insurance and safety box documents.

Time to knock it out...