I want to post a happy – life is hunky dory post, but I seem to have fallen into the doldrums.  I’m staying busy, I’m enjoying the moments.  I’m digging in the dirt, mowing the yard, and thanking God that spring finally arrived.  But my heart hurts.  It positively aches down to my toes.  

Hubby and I have been knee deep in conversations about the future and growing our family.  Our WeeMan includes wanting to be a big brother on his daily list of things he wants to do when he grows up, and I know that I’m holding Hubby back.  I know that if it were completely up to him we’d have our home study done and be waiting for the right fit on the state’s list.  But my heart isn’t there.  I want to jump full force into adoption.  I want to love that we can grow our family by adopting, but I don’t.  I’m tired.  I’m resentful.  I’m scared.  I’m heartbroken.  I’m the fly in the works, the thing keeping us from moving forward.  I’m the guilty party – the one that doesn’t want to give up on having a baby of our own.  I  don’t even pray every night anymore for a miracle.  It seems hopeless.  Every month I hold my breath and plead for a miracle, and every month I’m crushed again.  

I feel like it’s my fault that our sweet Zion – never got to breathe air on earth.  It was something I did or didn’t do.  Maybe it was the poppyseed chicken we had for dinner that week – I didn’t even think.  Maybe I didn’t pray hard enough, or believe deep enough.  Maybe I was too happy, too optimistic.  Maybe I wasn’t trusting enough.  I would give almost anything for another chance.  

I know for my marriage’s sake and for WeeMan’s sake I need to pull myself out of here, but I just can’t seem to find the light right now.