Hormona

I think an alien has taken over my body. I've named her Hormona. She does not care about my work, about my mid-stage remodeled home, or about the fact that my home only has one bathroom, for now. Hormona wants babies. Babies, babies, babies. Oi.

I, the sane one, have a plan. A spreadsheet. A husband who has not been taken over by Hormona's ideas. He is rational. We are rational, well-planned people. This isn't me, it's her. Darn her. Seriously, this is out of control and crazy.

The good news is that my God is bigger than Hormona. We are not blessed by God changing our circumstances. God blesses us for our faithfulness in our circumstances.

So for now, the "I"M WAITING" voice just has to be louder than Hormona's voice in my head.

I hope this doesn't make me clinically crazy.