The day after

No babies means no shots. So that’s the good news.

That’s pretty much where the good news ends.

Woke up at 4:00 in the morning, unable to sleep. Also, in pain. Surprisingly, not the cramping, as one would expect after yesterday’s procedure.

No, instead my neck and throat were throbbing, the breathing tube used during the surgery being the likely culprit.

After reading for a while I managed to fall back asleep, on the couch.

Upon waking up again I was feeling again. You know, FEELING.

And this time, no one cared if I was ready or not. I pulled up Pinterest on my iPad, in a desperate attempt to stuff it down, but after a while it bubbled up and eventually bubbled over.

It started with silent tears, burning a hot trail down my cheeks. But before long, my whole body was convulsing as deep, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing sobs escaped me.

My wailing woke my husband up and he came out to sit with me. He didn’t try to stop me. He knew I needed to get it out. So he sat with me. And he held my hand. And he stroked my hair. And he brushed my tears away.

And then it got messy. I started hyperventilating. And my nose started running. And even though it felt like I would never stop, I did. Because I needed to breathe.

Today is the first day of Hanukkah. Happy Hanukkah to me.

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About llipps

New mom, infertility survivor, marketer, wife, daughter and friend. I struggle to find the balance between being all things to all people and being happy with who I am. I love meeting new people, telling my stories, and hearing yours.
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