So, I was looking for a book this morning. I couldn’t find the hot red covered romance novel I picked up at the Used book store. I am sure it is in a pile with the laundry I just brought home from my in-laws. (Washing machine died a week ago). So, I picked up a book off of the shelve that I kept for some reason. I debated about Pamela Anderson’s Star, (very trashy and easy read) but decided upon Babyville by Jane Green.

I don’t know why I kept this book for so many years, and through so many purges of the library. Why did I insist on keeping this book? I know why I have kept many books, for sentimental reasons, good stories, fave authors, good for a laugh, and etc. But why this one?

So far, on page 10, I think. I bought and read this book before I had baby. Before I conceived. I bought this story, along with many books I read at the time, about couples dealing with the issues of the dreams of motherhood, obsessions with ovulation calendars, and all the feelings within.

It makes me think of my own story and struggle a little. I have been asked to tell my story many a times, friends and family have asked to tell it to others, my own story of hope for motherhood. Maybe one day I’ll write it down too.



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