With Thanksgiving already upon us, I thought I’d keep it short and sweet this week. I have pumpkin pies to bake.
This year–I’m thankful. Plain and simple.
Even though I’m still not a mom–life is good. And I like giving credit where credit’s due.
I’m thankful for my doctors and nurses. There’s a special place in my heart for these women (and a few men) who plan my cycles, draw my blood, measure my follicles and wipe my tears month after month.
I’m thankful for my job. In these tough economic times, I know how lucky I am to have work. And to have a job working with people I love—that’s just the gravy on top of my mashed potatoes.
I’m thankful for my family. Every single one of you. I know you’re reading this now to check-in on me. No worries. I’m fine. I appreciate your love and support. And—Grandma—I really did love that Hallmark for infertiles.
I’m thankful for my friends. My mom-friends and mom-to-be friends—and especially my wannabemom friends.
I’m thankful for my husband. Read last week’s post. Enough said.
I’m thankful for all of you reading this little ditty. I appreciate your comments. And I’m extra-thankful for Amy and Laura for letting me take up a little of their space each week. This blog is therapy for me—without the therapy bill.
Last but not least–I’m thankful for maternity jeans. I bought some before my miscarriage and never returned them. I’m going to wear them today and eat and eat and eat. Thanksgiving food is my favorite–and that pair of denim-stretchy-fabulousness will allow me two scoops of stuffing.
Who am I kidding—that stretchy waistband will allow me two scoops of everything. Gobble, gobble.
Happy Turkey Day, folks. Long live pumpkin pie–and maternity jeans.