I've been in a frenzy getting ready for Christmas.
My house is decorated.
Presents are wrapped (although I still have to get a few gifts).
And the last thing I have to do is Christmas cards.
For the past eight years I have dreamed of having my goofy looking baby on a Christmas card.
One of those cute collage cards of my adorable offspring.
But here I am faced with another year of writing Christmas greetings.
No cutesy cards.
Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself.
Yes, I am angry that even after emptying my savings account and going into debt I didn't end up with a baby.
There I said it.
Sometimes it's hard to focus on being pain-free and having a better quality of life.
I need to dig deep down and get these cards done. Perhaps not tonight (since we're watching the S.ound of Mu.sic on NB.C). But they'll get done.
For now, there will be chocolate.
And some coconut ice cream.
No wine since I'm in my Post-peak phase.
When I finally sit down this weekend to write my cards, I will offer up my angst for all of you still waiting.
I should make my pain fruitful, yes?