For the first 3 months of Elsie's life, Damien would go to work every day and I would spend my time mainly cuddling and feeding her in the nursery with a giant bottle of water nearby and a feeling that I was VERY lucky to have a tablet computer and access to the internet. I watched a lot of online TV and listened to a lot of podcasts.
Having a tiny baby is like when there is a cat on your lap and you need to go to the bathroom but you feel bad about disturbing the cat - only about a million times worse.
I am REALLY not looking forward to doing it all again, but Damien wants to give the one frozen embryo we have a shot. I hate everything about that, because I don't want another 3-6 months of newborn hell and I equally don't want another miscarriage. Also, I am thirty-fucking-nine this November. Surely I am too old for this shit?
I have explained all this to Damien. He does not care. He just wants another fucking baby. Feminism is dead. I have no reproductive rights. Huzzah!
** I am not quite as anguished or angry as I sound; just very, very miffed. **
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