If I'm doing the math correctly...we moved into this house in November of 2005....which means we've lived here for about 6 and a half years. And all that time, we had this amazing stairwell (3 really great walls) and they've been bare. Well, almost. For 6.5 years we had one, small, 3 photo frame hanging in the midst of this massive wall. Because really, who hangs a billion photos of themselves?
Rewind six and half years and you'd find me (us), childless, but hardly ready to call myself 'infertile.' And those walls? They beckoned to be filled with photos of babies I couldn't have.
We started filling those walls tonight....(Thank you Michael's for the MOST amazing sales).
It was kind of therapeutic, I'm not gonna lie. We hung them earlier this evening while the kids ran amuck downstairs. We even argued about the best way to do it. But the kids? They'e asleep now. And on my way shut off the dryer tonight, I passed the stairway, and caught a glimpse of the 'new wall', which was more or less begging me to come admire it.
And as I stood there, I felt that familiar lump in my throat... That wall..those frames...those are my babies. All three of them.
This is my life- right here on this wall.
What a crazy, crazy life....
Happiness is little faces who call me 'mom.'