The wind was blowing the rain sideways, so I stayed on the porch while Hubs brought the car around. It was like any other lazy Sunday spent at the parents-in-law's house talking and eating and watching the kids play. My sister-in-law (Hub's older sister) was cleaning out the front seat of her car and when she saw me she stopped and came over to talk.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"I guess I am doing alright," came the automatic response.
"I want to show you something," she said reaching into her apron pocket. Showing the picture to me, she continued, "I was supposed to have a third child, too, but for some reason I lost the baby."
My eyes focused on the ultrasound photo, framed.
"You are the only person, except my husband that knows. Cry as much as you need to. Lean on those that love you as much as you need to," she said, her eyes brimming with tears, "It's been more than seven years since I lost the baby, but not a day goes by that I don't think about it."
Lost for words, I just starred at the picture.
"You'll be okay, but you will never be the same," she said and the honesty of her words, suddenly made me look away.
"One day at a time, that's the best you can do."
And, then Hubs was there with the car and it was time to go on with life.