Most days, I feel as if my heart is about to explode with the love I have for my little girl. I think of her, and my chest feels as if it is on the verge of bursting open with all the love that is, and will continually be, pent up within.
It hurts.
Physically.
And I know it will not go away because I will never stop loving her. I know that the only way there will be some modicum of lasting relief is to have another, another a physical baby to lavish this love upon.
I have been open and transparent about our journey to a family in the past. It is not an easy road for us. And so, I ask you friend, please beseech God for me on this. Perhaps if we join together as a collective multitude to pray for joy again, he will hear our pleas.
But today, tomorrow, and even the next day, if you see me, talk about her. Ask about her. Include her in our conversation about the sun, and the busy days, and the holiday plans. Because saying her name out loud gives a small amount of release to this pressure that builds up within me. And it hurts a little less for a moment.
And please, don't be afraid of my tears. For they are just a simple expression of a mother's love for her child. They are a beautiful thing.
