man in brown

You know how when that man in brown knocks on your door and hands you a package, it feels like Christmas? Right? Well, today that man in brown came and handed me my package, and for a brief moment I was really excited. Then, I opened it.

I kid you not when I say it was a big box of needles. Dead serious. Needles that I get to stab into my flesh. I kid you not, again, when I say that I started to cry. And shake. If you don't remember just a few days ago my post about my hatred of needles, I'll remind you: I hate needles. There are 130 needles. For ONE MONTH????? Holy cowboy. I need to stop thinking about them!

Someone asked me what it was all for, why I would need such medication. I said, "Well, we want my body to be as hospitable of a place as possible for the little one. We don't want it hostile. We want it welcoming. It's kind of like I'm hanging a pineapple outside my uterus with all these meds."

So, I've resolved to look at it a different way. I will pretend I'm shooting pineapples into my body. This sounds like fun now! I'm still not convinced.

Ok, ok. I will be ok. I am willing, ready, and able to do this! Needles? Pah! I laugh in their face! I spit at their sting! I stand tall at their ... oh, who am I kidding? I'm going to cry.

But, it's worth every pinch, for you, little one.