And Then There's The Guilt

Up until last Fall Hubby and I were living in Murfreesboro/Nashville, TN. 

Within 15 minutes of the Doc telling me about the positive pregnancy test I proclaimed we'd be moving back to my hometown. Er, well, I sort of sobbed it out in between crying. And what husband isn't going to say yes to his blubbering soon-to-be baby momma? No husband, that's who.

So, with B's job transfer finalized we packed up and headed for South Carolina.

My mom? She was ecstatic. His mom? No so much.

And thus the DIL guilt begins...

It's awful, y'all. She loves her grandBaby J so much.  And without fail, every visit ends in tears {and lots of 'em}.

Honestly? When we decided to move to South Carolina, I never thought I would feel this bad. I knew she'd be upset, but me? I had no reason to be upset. Right? Wrong.

Every time she has to leave her sweet grand-baby behind I feel this deep twinge of sadness. And when her tears start? Oh, Lord. It's really starting to get to me. 

I wish we could see them more. Visit them more. Sometimes {and don't tell my husband, he would die} I even wish we still lived in Nashville. But the job opportunities here and the sanity my family gives me {most of the time} was something we couldn't pass up.

So, for now, the guilt continues. 

Someone grab the Kleenex. 

Life with Busy Bea

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