For the last 24 hours, my physical recovery has been brutal. I pushed it on Monday and Tuesday, and my body made me pay with nausea, chills, bleeding, and dizziness. It sucked. That is an understatement.

At one point, I was finally in a position on the couch that didn’t make me feel like I was going to die, but Annabel would. not. leave. me. alone. I put the periods there to really draw out the annoyance I felt. It was epic. I snapped at her. I snapped at Mike. I was instantly sorry but I couldn’t say it. I just wanted to be mad. I wanted to feel something.

Eventually I went in our office and laid on the ground next to the couch. I looked under the door into the hallway. I watched Rigby scratch at the door. I watched Annie’s feet bring her to the door. She tried the locked handle. “Hello, Mama? Hello?” I watched her and Rigby walk away. I waited for them to come back. If they came back, I’d open the door. They never came back.

I laid on the ground for a while, but all I felt was the carpet.

When I tucked Annie in for bed, I told her I loved her. She rolled over and said nothing. She was mad at me. I didn’t blame her. I wanted to tell her tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow has to be better.

 

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