One of those days

My therapist refers to them as "bad Andrew days". And I've gotten used to thinking of them that way.
It seems like a lot of this week has been one long "bad Andrew day". As much as life has begun to feel normal again, I still struggle to come to terms with this part of my life story that God has written for me. And now I not only still mourn his death, but I also am mourning what could possibly be the end of our fertile phase of life.
I always assumed I would be able to get pregnant and have children whenever we chose. I've since learned that's not the case. We've battled intermittent infertility over the years, and when I found out I was pregnant with Sarah and then Andrew I honestly thought God had truly healed my body and we'd never have to go thru it again. Little did I know the battle had really just begun. A year and half later, and we've had nothing but bad luck and lots of frustration.
Maybe it's time to move on? Maybe more babies aren't part of Gods plan for my life? I sure wish I knew the answer. For months I've asked Him to take a desire from me that's not in his will. I hear all these stories from other women who knew without a doubt that they absolutely did not want anymore children after a certain number. I don't have that feeling. I keep thinking  that I must be the odd one. Ken and I both grew up in a large family. And to us that's just the natural thing to do, but how do you know what to do when what feels natural to you doesn't work the way you expect it? I don't doubt God. I'm not even mad at Him anymore. I'm not even bitter. I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that possibly my plans aren't really His plans. I'm also coming to terms with the fact that no matter how much I ask Him to take this desire away from me, He may very well not.  I know this, God has a better plan. Even if right now it's very painful.