Perfectly imperfect


My family is so incredibly perfectly imperfect. I didn’t envision saying this 4 years ago, but I’m happy where I am with my little family. There I said it. My heart is heavy for saying it, but it’s true. It’s hard to swallow that I could actually mean it, but I do. 

Part of me struggles, clawing its way into my mind screaming, “How the hell could you say that? How can you be ‘happy’ with where your family is? Damnit. Don’t year realize two of your children should be in that little family?!?”

That part of me has me feeling incredibly guilty. Has me feeling guilty that I love having my rainbow here. Not having living sibling for him, allowing me to spend every second focused on just him, not dividing my attention. That’s why we are perfectly imperfect. 

We are perfect for the circustances we were dealt. An imperfect situation in which we’ve built a family. 

I would give anything to have my daughters here too, but since I know that isn’t a possibility, I am absolutely content in our life. 

My son is not second choice. He isn’t a runner up to my daughters. He isn’t a replacement child. He is perfect. 

And…. For once I can honestly say, while pushing that little voice down, I’m happy with where we are and mean it. 

Hang in there. Your day will come too. 

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