Every year my husband I spend about a week with his family. His big family! We all meet up at Lake Powell and pile into our houseboat together. This year it was twelve adults and nine kids. The littlest one turned one month while we where there. And there was one pregnant sister in law. I was pretty nervous about how the trip would make me feel. A tiny baby? And a preggo? Ugh, the anxiety was killing me. I just didn’t want to break down or even feel that evil jealous monster! But I did it, and with a great big smile. The baby was probably the hardest. But I went right for it. I grabbed that tiny baby the moment he showed up. And it was hard. He is so cute and small! The feeling in my stomach threatened to just take over, but I kept smiling. It was hard. The feeling is so odd; it sits right in the middle of your body. Right by your heart and in your stomach. It is a longing that is impossible to describe. I could physically feel it. Similar to heartbreak, but it’s own special pain. That feeling stayed with me just about the whole time. It would flare up at the strangest times. And not only when the kids were being cute. It was when they were tired and cranky and crying that I felt it. I could here their parents consoling them and that feeling was right there. People makes jokes like “aren’t you feeling lucky now that you don’t have any kids?” but no, it’s not how I feel. I would take all of the bad with the good if I could just have a chance. If I could just have my own kids to bring on vacation and hang out with all of their cousins, I would be the happiest lady around! I cuddled and loved up all of those kids so much! I filled up my little well of kid love I so needed. I was really proud of myself for handling it all so well. I barely cried at all, until I got home. But we all know how that is right? Crying in the safety of our own bedroom. But, it wasn’t so bad. I just have sweet memories of the trip and a little pride in myself for being me and experiencing the happiness that families bring.