I have been put on a sort of medical leave for work.
I have been put on sleep meds.
I have been out of pain and nausea meds.
I have been back on my anxiety and depression.
So, honestly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to write. I could talk about how hard it is for me to be told to sit back and relax for the next month. I could talk about the motivation, the fire, I feel in my gut. I could talk about how badly I want to keep going, keep fighting. How badly I want to get up early, workout, shower, make a cup of coffee, and defeat the day.
But defeating the day means not much time with my baby. If I’m working, cleaning, folding laundry … I don’t get to sit with my baby boy on my lap. I don’t get to lay on the floor and watch him try to crawl. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing all of this for, right? For my baby? I’m going to push myself so hard to make sure he’s okay though I’m not even around to see him be okay?
I want to be healthy. I want to be happy. I want to be productive. I want to be remembered. I want my baby to know how hard I worked for him. I want him to grow up seeing that hard work does pay off. I want to be able to take my husband on a new “honeymoon” every anniversary without worry. I want my in-laws to be able to move to Williams without worry. I want my mom to retire. I want my children to never want for anything – but know what hard work is. I want my friend to invite me to her birthday, and I want to be able to go out and get what she wants for it. I want to be able to throw birthday parties, baby showers, engagement parties. I want to own a business. I want to run a business. I want to sit at the head of a long table watching…
click here to read more.