I am not easily offended. I've come to accept the fact that I will probably never carry a baby to full-term (ie. 40 weeks). Because of my chronic hypertension, I am (and will probably always be) considered a high-risk pregnancy. I know what it feels like to be thankful for every day that I'm pregnant. But there are times that I hear women complain about their pregnancies, and the devil on my shoulder thinks, "Bitch, if you only knew!" And the angel on my shoulder thinks, "What a blessing, thank your lucky stars!"
There is a part of me, though, that thinks that I would never take that innocence away from her. Because the alternative, being on this side of the statistics, outliving a child, writing a blog dedicated to my dead son . . . I would much rather be running around with my menacing and adorable 19-month-old.
Okay, now help me off my soapbox . . . I'm getting old! :)