On top of being miserable that I can't bend, run, stretch, jump, etc...something I haven't discussed much is how freaked out I am that something will go wrong. There's still birth. There's umbilical cord injuries that might affect limb growth. There's risks from my category B medicines that I need. There's death during delivery...I even bumped into the corner of the dryer door...
If I knew there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I might be a little happier. As it stands, maybe starting the procedures for a Russian adoption might help. So Harry can still have a sister. As it stands, he keeps hugging this one.
Partially irrational, I know. But that's me. And it's me un-medicated (wine and yoga count) and currently overworked (trying to prepare for leave). I don't know what more I can say about it.
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2 comments:
What about the pot of gold called Ainsley Mae?
Seeing is believing.
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