Yesterday marked the eight month anniversary of when Leah Grace was born. Eight whole months. If the age old adage of "time flies when your having fun "stands true, then "time stands still when you're miserable" definitely holds some merit as well.
It's been a long and trying eight months. Just when I think I'm pulling it all back together something comes along and smacks me in the face. It's all so confusing. November 29th is Leah's birthday, but I know even if she'd been born alive she wasn't viable. So some days I think right now I'd have a bubbly, bouncing eight months old baby girl babbling away and cruising around right now. My house littered with sweet little pink play things. And then the logical side of me kicks in and says no, you should have a sweet cuddly little two month old baby girl right now who'd be cooing softly and just learning to smile. And then this is all compounded by the fact that I should be almost 4 months pregnant with a little boy right now. Do y'all see how this can be confusing on a girls mind?
So instead of being pregnant waiting for a little nudge on my bladder, or nursing a two month old or tickling a chubby little eight month old, Instead of all those things I'd so much rather do, I get to sit here and nurse a beer. Why? Simply because I can.
Sometimes, being able do to something is just so much worse.
I will create, not destroy
11 months ago