Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Once She Was Our Only
And then one became two and two became three and then I found myself cuddling the last newborn I would ever have, wondering where the hell all the time went, with Fiddler on the Roof perpetually stuck in my head. How did this happen? Who ALLOWED this to happen? When did we stop being that brand-new family?
I'm trying to focus on the positive and not be so hung up on the mostly-hormonal nonsense I have running through my head about not making any more babies ever. The things I never have to worry about again- miscarriage, late fetal loss, genetic/congenital problems, micropreemies, ohhh, all kinds of things. It's not really working, in case you're wondering. But I'm trying. I totally don't want to be a drama queen and obsess over stupid crap.
And anyway. Things haven't actually changed that much.