A little while ago Justin asked me if I still get my hopes up. If, despite the years of failure and disappointment, I still wonder and hope and pray every month when I'm a little late on my cycle.

Since Audrey has come into our lives, so many things have changed. The grief and sadness and anger that accompanied our infertility have magically disappeared. Over night. I don't cry at night anymore. Instead of tearing up at the mention of anything baby related I'm laughing all day long at my funny daughter. Instead of dreading church and it's focus on raising families, I'm embracing it and loving so much that I can be included. I don't count days of the month and chart ovulation anymore, I don't spiral into a weepy mess when my unwelcome period comes yet again. I'm too busy snuggling this beautiful, sweet, wiggly miracle that I get to call my daughter.

If Audrey is the only child we have we will be happy and count our blessings and thank our Heavenly Father for her and everyone that helped bring her to us for the rest of our lives.

But, we want to have more children. We want Audrey to have a little sister or brother.Whether I get pregnant or we adopt again really doesn't matter.




It really doesn't.

But, my answer to Justin's question? Do I still get a little hopeful and then a little disappointed?

I said, "Every time."

and Justin's response? "Me too."