A Robert Frost poem and my favorite A New Found Glory album. All those years go when I discovered both as a high schooler in 2000 (I’m aging myself), I didn’t quite get it. But the other day I was driving
A butterfly dancing at my window as if she is trying to find a way in. Maybe if she could come in and sit on my finger tips, she could elevate me from earthly matters – to where you are.
It just doesn’t get easier. I had my baby and my baby is gone. I can’t get my baby back. I was so stressed that morning it happened. Rushing out the door to make Pilates with a disagreeable 2-year-old, snapping
All I keep thinking is that I want my baby back. I walked out of the hospital that day without my baby and a huge piece of me was left behind as well.