This picture was taken on January 11, 2012. My birthday, in case you didn't catch that. I was very ill so as soon as Papa & Pip finished singing Happy Birthday I made my wish, blew out the candles and went back to bed.
Papa had bought Pip a cupcake in case I wasn't able to get myself to the table to celebrate so that's what is on her plate. Oh, and since I'm explaining away I'll also let you know that my iPhone is next to me because I wanted to take a picture of the cake in Instagram. See below:
I'm finally feeling much better and I feel like 2012 can now begin.
But back to my birthday. Did I mention that I turned 44? I'm not all that concerned about my age in the way one might think. I mean, I know the wrinkles are on the way and that if I'm not careful my ass will start to go south and then east & west (that thought does concern me A LOT). My plan is to do my absolute best to age gracefully.
No, the thing about my birthday is that it's a reminder that I'm one year further away from being able to have another child. I'm one year closer to the end. I might already be at the end.
It's not like I'm always hoping and praying for another baby. In fact, I'm not always sure that I could handle another child. We've reached a point in our lives where our family runs smoothly. We have fun together, we travel well together, we are a great little team of 3. But sometimes when I see a pregnant woman or when Pip points out a cute baby, my heart breaks. Pip would be an amazing sister. She would love a sibling, I know this even though she's never uttered the words. Intuitively, she knows it's probably not going to happen.
I'm such a fighter that it's hard for me to really let go and accept that this is my fate, our fate. I know that once I get there I'll feel better.
I guess I need a couple more birthdays.