It's been a crazy couple of months, complete with moving and then flooding basement and then restoration of the basement. I'm finally getting things put back together (the carpet got finished yesterday so everything is all done). So I'm redoing my scrapbooking room, and I can't help but pause and look through the scrapbooks.
I came across the page I made while pregnant with Cora. It was more painful than I expected it to be. I haven't looked at that page since I made it, I don't think. It was hard to go back and read of the happiness and the hopes and dreams that I knew would ultimately be dashed...but I didn't know then. It was hard to look that woman in the face and reflect on who I was and how I have changed. Most of the changes have been good ones, but it has been a very very painful process.
My heart aches to be the woman that that woman thought she would be.
edited to add:
I just picked up an 8x8 album that I had been making an alphabet book with. I flipped through the pages to figure out what I'd done and what needed to be done, wondering why I had stopped working on it.
And then I saw this