I have to admit that I was a little apprehensive at being this close to the big 4-0, but now that I'm here, it's not so bad. Maybe it's the 1:00 pm birthday G&T talking, but I'm kind of enjoying peering over the edge of another decade. My 30s have been a crazy ride so far and while I'm hoping that happier times are ahead, I'm thankful for everyone who's touched my life in the past few years (and that includes all of you here in blogland!).
Speaking of people who have touched my life, here is a memory about someone who did so in the most profound of ways. I found this on my dad's computer when I was home for Thanksgiving. He doesn't talk much about Lydia, but it was nice to see that he thinks about her. This brief clip is the only video I have of when I was pregnant:
For some reason my feed thingie hasn't been sending me your updates...Happy Belated Birthday! For me, 39 was worse than 40, just as 29 was far worse than 30. Something about mourning endings and celebrating beginnings. But that's all relative, isn't it. Glad to hear you're doing good.
Ex-pat American currently in London, married to a Brit, trying desperately to keep a sense of humour while weathering some pretty big shit-storms. My heart was broken when my first child was stillborn in June 2004. 18 months later, right after my 36th birthday, I went into premature menopause, thus ending my dreams for having more children of my own. The grief of the loss of my daughter is always with me, but so are the hopes and dreams that she brought to my life. The latter keeps me going.