Lately, when it comes to our family, I've been feeling a deep sense of awe. The day-to-day "wake up-make breakfast-run errands-nap-play-cook dinner-read books-go to bed" normalness of it all.
I'll be singing The Wheels on the Bus in the car or sweeping crumbs off the kitchen floor and I'll catch myself thinking "Wow, I can't believe this is my life".
We always knew we wanted a family. We talked about it, dreamed about it for years. We couldn't wait to have a house full of toys, kids chasing each other down the halls. Couldn't wait for stories before bed and pajamas with little feet.
Then we weren't sure we'd ever have it. Extra bedrooms went unused, the house was quiet. There was no need for gates on the stairs, covers on the outlets or locks on the cabinet doors. Everything felt empty and incomplete.
I don't necessarily think that infertility made me a better mom. I still get frustrated and have bad days and wish I could sleep in on Saturday mornings. What I do think is that I recognize how extraordinary it is to just be an ordinary family.
After 3 years, it's no longer surreal to wipe booger noses, spend afternoons in the park or hear someone call me "mom". What's amazing to me is how ordinary it feels...and that's pretty incredible.