Dear baby. I am hereby handing you your notice of eviction. From this hour you have 48 hours to vacate the premises or mum is going to get very upset.
Love, Mum.
That is how I feel right now. I was to meet the little one, pronto. The suspense is killing me, not to mention the intense amount of SPD pain I've got. I have to walk up the stairs on all fours (like a cat) for gods sake.
I'm annoyed and tired and achey and in pain.
I had a meltdown earlier because I'd missed the postman delivering my newly repaired telephone. The first thing I could think of doing was calling the husband and crying. At first crying seemed reasonable, then the more I cried the stupider I felt.
He feels terrible for me, I know he does. I keep apologising that the baby isn't here yet, like it's somehow my fault that she's not here and he's still having to get up and go to work every day. Leaving me on my own and it's rubbish.
Sorry for the rant but finding the energy to be positive eludes me right now.
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