Just yesterday I was eating my morning breakfast in my haze of just waking up before the coffee, sitting at the table drinking my normal 20 ounces of water with my boiled eggs, I noticed my glass was broken.

My glass that I was drinking out of had three cracks along the rim formed into a triangle. Obviously, not enough to cause a leak or even notice unless you were looking. Because the break was facing me, I noticed.

And thought.

That's me right now. Infertility makes you feel broken. But daily, you try your best to keep those little broken pieces together because if you let go of one tiny little sliver of brokenness even for a second you will shatter.

Also, there's hope. Even though my drinking glass was [and still is broken], it was working just fine. It was holding my water perfectly, it still looked pretty enough to even serve a friend BUT it was still broken.

And just like the glass filled with water is broken, being filled with hope while broken is such a growing experience. One that I wish I wasn't a participant in, but I am.

So today, I'm broken but filled with hope. And I'm going to keep filling my cup with hope and remember that just because there's a break in the glass doesn't mean I still can't be used.

And tomorrow when I drink my 20 ounces I think I'll make sure it's from that glass. Hope.

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