Thursday morning I finished packing my bags and came back to the place I grew up. I always love coming back home. I love pulling up the drive and seeing the familiar barn, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The sweet clean air and the over grown Christmas trees that could probably tell a story or two.
I came back to help my mom since she had a procedure done. This morning I walked my younger siblings down to the bus, waved goodbye and went back to watch over my youngest brother. Together we watched his favorite shows shared fruit snacks and went outside to play in the sunshine.
In the process of taking care of my siblings, I got a small taste of what motherhood is like. It’s a calling on my heart that I have had since I was 16. It’s been the last few years where I started to really see that while the old familiar places feel like home. The people who live there, that is home.
I have personally chosen to not be overly transparent in regards to TTC. I have made a couple of posts, but I never really opened up my heart and exposed every little detail. Mainly because I felt like it was personal. Even though I share a little here and there, there’s so much more behind the scenes.
I have chosen to write this post. I have tried writing it so many times and I think I have finally come to a place where I can write it.
I didn’t know what to expect when trying to have a baby. I didn’t know it would take a little longer, and I certainly didn’t expect the mother load of emotions. No matter how many negative pregnant tests you have, it hurts. Even when you expect it to be negative it hurts. To love someone so much who hasn’t been created yet. This was also the first Mothers Day I got to experience first hand the heartbreak and the joy that day brings. Colin had gotten me red roses and a sweet Mothers Day card and wrote a sweet note inside.
I had decided a few months ago, that I wanted to take more pictures. In this case I wanted to take a picture of the flowers Colin gave me.
I posted on Instagram and decided to be honest. To allow myself to be transparent. To allow myself to feel the hurt the last 6 almost 7 months have put my heart through. Then something I didn’t prepare for. The love and support from those that love me. I suddenly realized that these sweet people who are willing to cry with me, will be rejoicing with me when I finally get my BFP ( Big Fat Postive).
However, I realized something else. Now is the time to build a home for my sweet babies. To prepare my heart for every set of sticky fingers, and every boo-boo. To prepare a place in my heart for the footprints that will stampede it. To prepare to teach them the Gospel. To encourage them, to wipe tears. To rarely hear thank you’s and to rock to sleep a sick little one. Because these little ones will be my home.
My home is in Colin. Lord only knows no one else could handle being married to me. My craziness as well as my geekiness. To make him my main human priority. To make our marriage number 1. Because when those sweet little faces grow up and start on the paths God has for them, I will still be growing old with my best friend.
A house is a building, the people you love inside makes it home.
Cause let’s face it, there really is no place like home.