Sort of good

The view from the hotel is breathtaking. Sun rising behind me. Meditative walk. Guidance sneaking up. I can’t seem to feel better for long. It’s hard to get past memories of my infant/toddler, adorable little boy, and the realization that for him it was all wrong. I knew he was unhappy so early, but will he really be happier now? Accepted? No guarantee. I believe in process, but it’s strange to think of going shopping with my daughter I never had, discussing hair and make-up. And think of what my husband must be experiencing? ¬†Acceptance remains challenging, and I’m struggling with a crisis of faith regarding my Higher Power,

“Never more than we can handle.” Really?

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