On my way out of the grocery store today I grabbed one of the free magazines that are offered at the entrance. Several hours later I was reading an article that was written by a girl I knew in college and haven't seen in over 20 years. I recognized her picture in the table of contents, and she looks just the same, except that her hair isn't as big (it WAS the 80's, after all). What I read was sad, and heart-breaking, and inspiring, and lots of other things all at once. You see, the article was about infertility, and it chronicled her story, one that still hasn't ended with a baby in her arms.
In the middle of my routine life of never-ending cooking, cleaning and boyness, it is easy to forget that there are so many people who would willingly, in a heartbeat, trade their freedom, money, published articles, and downtime for what I have and take for granted and even complain about, at least mentally. It is too easy for me to look at people my age that don't have children and assume it was a conscious choice, or to wish longingly for the simpler, quieter life they must enjoy. Then, out of nowhere, I am reminded of my old friend, and my heart hurts.