So we’ve been trying for a second baby for a long time.
Before we were ready.
Mind you, I don’t think you’re ever ready.

But it is. Anguish.
I’m grateful that I don’t feel guilt or too much envy.
I don’t even really aim for “right time of month sex”.

More like, “Okay, let’s do this!”.

But I feel.

And I can only imagine how bone crushingly hard, how mind numbingly wretched it would feel.

If you felt all the feels.

And honey, I’m with you.
Every pregnancy test, every bloody period, every post-sex-mindframe, I’m with you.

And I always remind myself.

When the universe feels it’s the right time, the right moment, the right direction for me. It will be as it is to be.

And so.
I accept.
Even if it is just for now.
Because hope.
Never leaves you.
Does it?