I'm going to a funeral tomorrow. I just went to one a couple of weeks ago; it was for my mom's long-time neighbor (over 40 years), Margaret, who died of cancer. That was bad enough.
Then on Monday morning, a glorious, no-clouds-in-the-sky kind of day, her husband, Carl, died in a car accident. He was having problems with insomnia since his wife's death. They believe he fell asleep at the wheel, ironically on the way to the doctor's office, whom he was going to see about the insomnia. Carl hit another car head-on; thankfully, the woman in the other car was okay.
I'm still in shock over this. I've known them my whole life, and I used to be in and out of their house all the time, playing with their daughters. They have three, and they're completely devastated by their loss. I can't even imagine how they must feel.
That sends my mind into dark places, places I don't want to visit. Such as, what if that happened with Matt and me? Who would Audrey have to lean on? We've only planned on having one child, mainly due to my health, but finances are an issue, too. I know she'd have her cousins, but no siblings to help her through it.
So, in a way, I wish we could have another baby. Not just for that reason, but because...well, just because I want to. The message boards I frequent have women with children the age of Audrey, and they're already pregnant with their second baby. And it makes me want another sometimes, really bad.
Damn this fibromyalgia!
But I'm thankful for the wonderful, healthy child we have.