The Vault, Post 8.

Originally written around April 2011.

Yesterday I burst into tears while looking at images from a live birth. First of all, who does that and second of all was what I said to Adolfo while I was heb-sobbing. Which was “I can’t do this.” I am not going to lie to you the thought of pushing something too big out of a hole that’s too small is not an appealing way to spend a Saturday or any other day and it has me scared shitless. The truth about labor is – it is going to hurt like hell and the body has a way of making you forget so that you are stupid enough to agree to do it again. 

The way I see after my breakdown of tears of course, is I have 2 choices. Either push you out or keep a 12 year old in my uterus forever. I am going to push, I am going to do this, but only because I have no other choice and it’s the only way I will meet you.

At work I am lucky number nine within the last 12 months. First, Heather + Isabella, then Laura + Jaxson, next was Denise + Madison, then Heather + Derrick, Andrea + Owen, Angela + Gabrielle, Melissa + Wyatt, next will be Erika + Tyler, then finally Robin + Zoey. Then the next boomer cycle is complete. The new baby boom of 2011 during a long economic recovery has led couples to retreat to their bedrooms. 


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