I have fallen behind the curve. I'm not pregnant. I'm not trying to get pregnant. I don't even want to be pregnant. And it's not grief that's making me say these things.
I'm rather enjoying having my body back, such that it is. I walk with a limp, but it's a darn sight better than the waddling with a limp I would surely be doing about this time had Travis lived. I don't have aches and pains except for my ankle. And I can take extra extra strength motrin for that ankle pain without fear of creating a two-headed child. I can drink when and what I want. And I do. I lay around in the evening and feel physically good in this heat wave. This morning I put on a skirt that would have been impossible to wear had my stomach been sporting a third trimester bulge. There are no leaking breasts to worry about when I dress myself. Life is good.
That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. A lot.
And there is still a competitive streak in me that feels like compared to everyone else, I'm failing. I'm not in high school...and I thought I had long ago left that crap behind. But there it is laughing at me..."You don't fit in anywhere you freak."
Oh never mind...it's pointless.