It’s been interesting doing these posts for each year (and I’m trying valiantly to get them all done and posted this month, if not on the right days) because I’m running right into old issues from previous years.  The childhood ones are easy, and years that were happy are easy, but harder years are harder to talk about.

Twenty-six was hard.  Not my hardest ever, but hard.  I was TTC, which didn’t work out, then started the adoption, which was a neverending source of frustration, and ultimately didn’t work out (although I was 28 by then.)

I’ve blogged all that before, and just don’t want to retread it right now.  And I know I’m fortunate.  I made it out the other side, somehow or other, and I have my girls (who are now both crawling,) and all’s well.

Explore posts in the same categories: 30X30

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