What I can take away from this is this was our first year separated. It was a long hard year with many firsts.
The Breast Is Best Enthusiast
My uterus and I would very much like the questions regarding our future together to stop, and not just because I don’t have all the answers for you. I don’t like the way that intrusive questions like this make me feel.
But here is my secret: I am a liar too. Or I was, for much of my life. I remember the moment when I realized that I had a hand in what type of reality another would live by. That I could carve out my own secret nook beneath others’ expectations and exist in that delicious, sovereign space.
I knew I wasn’t going to get that help from a book or a podcast or a well-intentioned friend. What I needed was meaningful, personalized feedback from a professional.
This goes to the woman who fights every battle with her own hands and taught me that it’s okay to break down sometimes, as long as you get back up and keep fighting.
Rebecca had the life that I dreamed of. She had a big house, two dogs, and a really nice mom and dad. I would sit in Rebecca’s house sometimes and watch in amazement as Rebecca’s mom hugged and kissed her and combed the tangles out of her long hair.
“I can’t lie. I had a reallllly hard time during pregnancy watching my weight tick up and up and up nonstop…”
It’s never been more glaringly obvious than it is now that there’s only one of me and four of them, and all of us have different needs in any given day.
Around the corner from every trying moment is a wonderfully reassuring punch, kick, or head butt from that tiny little human growing inside you.