America’s most patriotic national parks: Theodore Roosevelt National Park
This post took my breath away. Honestly, I don't think I bretahed as read about you approaching the tree and imagining what Bella would be like this Christmas. I can be walking on my sales route and a mom will approach with a stroller. I hold my breath if I see pink and think she'd be about Nara's age. I stare without shame and drink that little girl in as she passes. The girls usually notice all the love pouring out and respond the mothers seem to feel a bit awkward unless I
find my voice enough to gush about how beautiful their baby is and if they open themselves up to conversation, I ask how old she is. I calculate. Nara would be ___ old, but she was a preemie. If I used a preemie adjusted age, she'd be ___ and compare to this girl, see if one of the ages fits. It's a strange little game I don't seem to help but play. Our babies are everywhere, demanding our attentions just as our living ones do. Make. Do. Give. Be. Accomplish enough for me, too. I love mothering all of my children, but I wish it was different.