The sweetest thing

I have to say that my moments of infertility/hysterectomy mourning have been fewer and further between. Pictures of newborns in my Facebook feed don't choke me up everytime. I can congratulate someone on a pregnancy with a much smaller feeling of a gut punch.

The other day, however, I couldn't hold back. 

Shawn and I have nieces and nephews back in Cleveland, where I'm from. We stay with my brother and sister-in-law and their 3 girls, the youngest of the nieces and nephews. We're usually in CLE at least once a year.

Anyway, I was looking through pictures from our various trips to see my family. There were quite a few of Shawn with the girls. The girls were at all different ages as I scrolled through. The pictures prove him to be very sweet. There are pictures of him with one of the girls cuddled up on his chest, asleep with a blanket. Another shows him walking while holding one niece as a toddler and she has her arms around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. One shot shows him holding a bubble wand for one of the girls so she can try to blow a bubble. And, of course, there are plenty of the make-silly-faces pictures. 

As I looked at the pictures, I choked up, then teared up, then cried. I love those pictures. I love watching him with the girls when we visit. I love Shawn. I love the girls.

I don't cry because those things happened. I cry because those things won't happen with children of our own.