I lied...

In my post yesterday I mentioned that I MAY have a tad bit of depression. That was a lie. It is more than a tad bit. This "depression" or funk that I am in is two fold.

I  worried about Scott's surgery. We live off his income and pay the mortgage, car insurance and my car payments with mine. With his surgery, he will be unable to work for at least three to four weeks. Possibly longer depemding on how he is healing and how much HE follows the doctor's orders. That is one month or more with none of his income.

We have never had to do this before. We haven't had to live on a budget either; we have been very fortunate in that way. I am worried that I am going to mess up somehow and we will be completely broke by the time he goes back to work.

A big part of my funk that makes me really sad is a more touchy subject. I have been trying to be happy and not sad when I think about the holidays. This year it is really bothering me. I miss my dad a lot lately. Last night we celebrated my uncle's 60th birthday. My dad and my uncle got along so well. My dad would have turned 60 four months ago. He would have loved having grandkids. I can only imagine what he would have built for them in his little workshop in the basement. Or imagine watching him put the train under the tree. Carefully instructing them on how to "properly use the control box" while it was running.

And the biggest part of my unhappiness stems from my losses the past two summers. I cannot stop thinking of how I could have had a seven month old right now or have been six months pregnant right now. It really sucks. No time of the year really screams "babies" more than this time.

I am trying to be thankful for having such a great family that loves and supports me. For friends that do the same as well. But at the end of the day, I still come home to a house (void of the thing I desire most in my heart). Not a home. A house with two empty bedrooms. One that should be a nursery and the other is a guest room.

No baby to rock to sleep. No stocking to fill for the first time. No precious bundles wrapped and put under a tree. No sweet smell of precious baby to inhale. Sure I could "rock" my furry children or even try to rock Scott (ha!), but it wouldn't be the same and no where near as pleasant.

So please pray for me. Last year was hard knowing that I had one baby in heaven. This year is much, much more difficult. Imagining the fun my grandpa and dad are having with my precious babes.