I'm okay.

My sister had a baby boy on Saturday. My younger sister. My younger sister with the beautiful almost 2 year old daughter. And the perfect husband. And the brand new house. (See where I'm going? Actually I got over being jealous of her many, many years ago, when I finally accepted she would always be better at most things than me, and most likely always be thinner. Now it's kind of funny to me.) Anyways I could almost hear the eggshells crunching when family members talked about the new baby. Even my sister who had the baby was worried, and called me to make sure I was OK. And I was. I could tell my husband was keeping a close eye on me, waiting for the tears, but there were none. I was fine. Until she put pictures on facebook. Pictures of her 2 beautiful children. 2. And I have none. So I went to bed. Still fine. Until my husband slipped into bed beside me, put his arms around me, and said, "our time will come." And then I cried. Not because I resent my sister, or my beautiful new nephew. Because I was sad. And it's hard. And I want a baby.
And then I woke up the next morning, and looked over at my husband, who's not perfect. But who God is changing more and more every day, and who holds me when I cry, and who loves me more than life itself. And I looked at my house, that's not brand new. It's old. And has a lot of work to be done. But it's cozy, and my husband and I have so many plans for it, and it becomes more and more of a home every day. And I looked at my office, that is still an office, not a nursery. And I know that God hasn't forgotten about us. And someday, somehow we will have a baby of our own. And He doesn't mind when I cry. David did.
My sister had a baby on Saturday. And I'm okay.