The mean reds

I was awake most of the night last night, staring into the darkness with my brain running a hundred miles an hour. Everything from travel plans for the holidays to whether we're ever going to adopt again to all my insecurities as a wife and mother--it ALL ran through my head last night.

And I cried.

I haven't cried that much for a while.

I cried because I don't know if we'll ever adopt again, and the general opinion of those around us is that we are crazy for wanting to do so.

I cried because no matter how carefully we plan our visits for the holidays, there's going to be one or more person complaining about how little they saw us and/or how short our visit was. I saw the fights Andy and I will inevitably have, the stress we will go through to make sure everyone else is happy . . . but we won't be . . . we'll be stressed out, sleep deprived, and strapped for cash because of the travelling expenses (cue more fights).

I cried because I have a LOT of insecurities and they all presented themselves in big, bold letters last night.

Needless to say, I am quite raw and fairly depressed today. I have to admit, things did not look better in the morning, and these thoughts have been plaguing me all day long, to the point where I am doubting everything in my life--every decision, every path taken . . .

Holly Golightly called it The Mean Reds . . .