I feel like I live in a constant state of worry. Lately there has been a hefty dose of sadness and grief as well.
The little girl I watched February-April passed away the Tuesday after Mother's Day. My daughter asks about her every day and I miss her as well. It has been difficult for me, and I feel so deeply for her parents, who are experiencing a grief that I cannot even begin to comprehend.
Earlier this month, my aunt passed away after almost a decade of suffering related to early onset Alzheimer's. She was 56.
Our daughter, who will be 2.5 years next month, has been having some possible vision problems recently. We are keeping an eye on things (no pun intended) and are thinking we may be treating amblyopia, aka lazy eye, down the road. Thankfully we are catching things extremely early and treatment, if needed, should be pretty minimal with a high chance success.
Last Thursday I found a lump in my left breast. Friday I was seen at my clinic and referred to the breast clinic for an ultrasound. Good news: The doctor doesn't think it is anything of concern. Bad news: Ultrasound determined that it is not fluid or fiber, but they don't know what it IS. I now have the choice of getting a biopsy to identify what it is or I can wait it out and see if it resolves on its own. I am waiting to hear back from my Ob/gyn about how she thinks I should proceed. Two of my sisters have had similar things that turned out to be nothing, so I am hopeful.
We have been hopeful about baby #2 for about a year now. No positive tests to speak of. My husband tries to console me by saying, "It took 2 years last time, it might just take time again," "We haven't REALLY tried EVERY month," and "I would be happy to have another baby, but we'll be okay if we have one child. We'll be GREAT." Secondary infertility is horrible, but not the same as primary. I have my daughter to distract me. I don't have time to obsess over every possible fertility or pregnancy symptom. Some days I feel at peace about having an only child. Some days I panic. I know we are so very lucky to have our daughter. Five, four, three years ago I would have cut off my arm to have just one. This time around it feels like giving up on a dream, but I know that my daughter is enough. Though, honestly, I do hope we get another surprise. She would be a fantastic, loving sister. We aren't planning on pursuing any treatment at this time. Down the road, I may consider laparoscopic surgery for my endometriosis, but that will be a decision for another day.
I have decided to stop dying my hair! After 11 years of coloring, I am growing out my natural color(s). I would guess I am maybe 25-30% gray, or silver as I prefer to call it. Right now my hair looks pretty awful, like someone poured acid on my head or something. I think it will look interesting and unique once it is grown out. Time will tell!
My husband and I recently downsized our wardrobes by a ton. We estimate that we donated approximately 65-70% of our clothing! And the strange thing is, we still have plenty to wear. And the awesome thing is, all of the things we wear now are our favorite things! We still have more work to do in building the wardrobes of our dreams, but we are well on our way. For me I think that means a classic, timeless wardrobe that channels Audrey Hepburn. I've been looking into a capsule wardrobe method, like Project 333 but haven't seriously started creating "capsules."
Recent books I've enjoyed:
Everything That Remains: A Memoir by the Minimalists by Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus
Consuming Kids: The Hostile Takeover of Childhood by Susan Linn
I am currently reading:
The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing by Marie Kondo
Waiting on my nightstand:
One and Only: The Freedom of Having an Only Child, and the Joy of Being One by Lauren Sandler
Huck's Raft: A History of American Childhood by Steven Mintz
Divergent by Veronica Roth (Have you seen this movie?! I was in suspense almost the entire time and the teenage-esque romance story had my husband and I giggling uncontrollably at times. It was a fun one!)
For now, this is life.