Yesterday morning I went off to work in high spirits after a giddy tickle-fight with my husband, who is awesome. Over the course of the day, the spirits were progressively dampened, and I started panicking about not having found a doctor I like yet, whether it's really safe to give birth at the birth center like I was planning, whether we can afford this, being so tired all the time, the fact that I'm coming down with yet another cold, possibly not being able to find another job if I take maternity leave and don't come back to this one, how having a baby is going to eat into the time that I have with my husband, etc.
I want this child so much, and yet I still have flashes where I think I'm ruining my life/our lives. By the time my husband got home, I was curled up in bed crying. He didn't even have to ask many questions, just crawled into bed to hold me and said "Chances are, everything will turn out fine." It's amazing how much those few words helped. I could feel the weight lifting off me, and the tears dried right up.
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