Saturday, November 24, 2012

Thirty

One of my co-workers thinks she's pregnant.  I think it's exciting, and I'm not trying to snatch her newborn, but there's a fire under my ass that just got hotter.

Heather and I agreed in August to wait a year.  It was time to take a break from charting and appointments-and from squabbling about them.  The other night, it took just a few minutes of conversation before I choked up.  I don't know if I was thinking of the stress, or of the cluster of cells that weren't ready to become a baby, but I felt this profound grief that I couldn't and can't navigate.