I hope they forgive me

I hope my husband will forgive me for not being able to give him his dream of six kids.
I hope my son will forgive me for not being the mother he needed.
I hope they will forgive me for not making our home the place they wish it was.
I hope my mother will forgive me for keeping score.
I hope my father forgives me for missing who I wanted him to be...and not who he was.
I hope my friends forgive me for not knowing how to bridge the gap.
I hope my co-workers understand how I was...before.
I hope they will all forgive me for my unrelenting anxiety and the effect it has had on our lives.

File this in the unanticipated landmine category...

At Sam's senior portrait session (I KNOW...I can't believe it either)...

...AFTER the small-talk, "So how many kids do you have?" (That I managed to navigate without crying..."Just the two boys.")

G (photographer's husband/assistant): "Oh...you have horses...do you ride?"

Me: "No...we just never finished the training."

G: "How long have you had them?"

Me: "16 years."

G: "OMG...that's hilarious!"

Me: "Well life happened..."

G: "I thought it was like a year or two...max (laughing hysterically)."

Me: (laughing along and suddenly falling down that familiar spiral...thinking...well I was pregnant or recovering from one dead baby delivery or another for several of those years...and then I was so iron-deficient I could barely breathe...but nobody gave a fuck because they just chalked it up to my being depressed and fat...so...)

"Hey Sam...smile!"