“All will be well.
You can ask me how,
But only time will tell.”
A couple of months after Rory passed, I cried to Lance that we needed to have another baby.
Not that any child could replace Rory. She’s irreplaceable. One of a kind.
But I couldn’t see happiness in the future.
I wasn’t ready to stop being a mom to a young child. I wasn’t ready to not have a baby anymore.
My baby is gone. She’s gone.
And babies are hope. I mean, they’re a lot of work! But they encompass love, innocence, joy, and progression. Hope.
I’m not announcing anything here. There’s no baby in my belly.
As Lance and I talked about it, prayed about it, and talked to the boys, it felt okay.
It felt like having a baby is a righteous desire for us.
But it also felt like it wasn’t the only way we could go. There are other things that Lance and I could do in our future. That it wasn’t going to be as bleak as it felt.
I got the feeling that we’d be able to love and care for people. That my mothering wasn’t going to end as the boys left the house.
I have no idea what our future holds. It’s not something I allow myself to think about often. I still struggle to see joy in my future.
All will be well.
Only time will tell.