Have you ever found yourself wondering if things in life happen for a reason?
Like the story about the man who misses his flight because he has a flat tire, only to find out later that the plane crashed, killing everyone aboard.
Was he spared for a reason? Is there some greater purpose in life he has yet to fulfill?
It's a subject I've been thinking about a lot lately. Not about plane crashes, of course, but reasons.
They're thoughts that almost hurt too much to speak out loud, as though somehow just saying the words could make them true.
What if I am infertile because I was not meant to be a mother?
What if this is life's way of telling me I am meant for some other purpose?
There--I said it.
I am not a particularly religious person (although I was raised as one).
I could list a million different rebuttals to these questions.
There are a million perfectly logical reasons why this line of thinking makes no sense.
Why then, is it so difficult to silence that little voice that comes and whispers in my ear when I least expect it?
Donor egg update - ups and downs
1 year ago