07.03.08 :: 5:26 pm
And now I'm not allowed to leave the house, doctor's orders.
I guess the tater is right up against my cervix and just being upright and walking even ten feet sends shooting pain through my petula-clark to the tune of "holy em-effing christ, is this labor??"
so better safe than sorry.
There are worse things than being waited on hand and foot.
Slowly, slowly we are starting to make moves towards Relocation Take 2: Right Back Where We Started From.
Brooklyn. New York. It's such a renter's paradise.
I don't know.
But it also happens to be the first thing we need to talk about.
All I want to do is hit fast forward and be there already. I'm jealous of Ruby who's going to be all set upon her own personal Relocation Take 2.
I hate not knowing where we're going to go.
But it's all part of the adventure, I suppose.
We drove all the way to California, it seems, to get me pregnant.
OK, I'm being yelled at to go lay down some more with my feet up.