I've been a little quieter this week. I've smiled a little less, slept a little more. I've let the laundry pile up, the groceries go unpurchased, the boxes I've received go unblogged about (for now - I'll get to them). I have been struggling.
Two weeks ago, I was pregnant. I was trying to figure out how we were going to afford me going off on mat leave again. I was planning another nursery. I was worried that D would never potty train and I'd have two in diapers. I was terrified by unexplained spotting but hopeful that it could be normal. I was relieved that there was a heartbeat on the ultrasound.
And then I wasn't. Any of those things. Not any more.
And I'm doing okay. Step by step. Day by day. And my son and my husband are being awesome and sweet and supportive. D is actually using the potty a few times a day and waking up dry from naps. G is cooking dinners voluntarily. And I'm getting by.
It's enough for now. I need more time. I need my body to get back to normal. So I can go on - not move on, not forget, not get on with it - just, go on. Today I am struggling. Tomorrow I will, hopefully, struggle less. At least it's the weekend :)