After the scream

When I was younger and acting up, my dad used to say to me "All right now, you're showing your color."  Actually, he still says that to me whenever I threaten to 'take my wig off.'  That's my expression for when I'm super done and I'm about to let errbody know.


Even though I pride myself on being even tempered and (mostly) level headed sometimes I just have to take my wig off, show my color, get loud and wile out.  That's what I had to do on Wednesday.  The pressure was getting to me and I'd had enough.  I had to climb to the top of the mountain, take my wig off and let out a primal scream, because nothing else would do.


When you're in the midst of a difficult and trying task, sometimes the burden becomes too heavy.  You know you have to carry it, you don't want to put it down and you will see your task through to the end, but damn!  And sometimes you just have to take it there so you can find the strength to take one more step.  That was me - I was there.


Now that I'm back on solid ground, my wig is straight and I'm composed, I must thank you.  All of you who heard me.  All of you who understood but most of all I thank all you ride or die bitches!  All of you who stepped the hell up and took off your earrings ready for a fight!  I love you!  But it's cool, you can get y'alls wigs straight again - crisis averted.  I have regrouped and rededicated myself to the task at hand.  


I was down, but I'm back up and I'm looking this square in the eye, stronger than ever and I'm NOT backing down.  I got this.


Not once in this pregnancy has there been cause for concern.  Every time we go to the doctor, the baby is fine, the fluid around her is fine, she's growing perfectly.  My daughter is strong.


I have not once missed a shot.  I hate them and they suck but I do it.  Every day.  I am strong.


I do not have the beetus, group B strep, HIV, high blood pressure, iron deficiencies or cankles.  I am healthy.


My daughter is active and moves, all day every day.  My daughter is healthy.


I'm having contractions - every kind.  The kind that feel like period cramps, the tightening of my belly, the ones that start in my abdomen and wrap around to my low back.  All right on schedule.  My body is NOT broken.


I'm even making boobie juice.  My Body Is Not Broken.


I GOT THIS.


I am 37 weeks today - full term.  I made it.  We're here.  We did it.  

37 weeks in the office bathroom.

Not as blurry, but super yellow.

One out of two ain't bad.

They're only dark and blurry in the stall, but they're 

still bathroom pictures.  Eh, what are you gonna do.

And since I haven't blogged all week because I've been buried under the world's most tedious spreadsheet, I got another post coming right after this one.  But this one had to go first.

I got fed up.  I fell.  And I screamed.

But I'm back up and I'm here.  I'm doing this.  Thank you for being there, for listening, for your support.  Thank you.