I wish I had a automotive and could afford remedy (even although guess what…I’d in all probability need to take her!). Now, off to have a cigarette, chocolate, maybe some wine, and enjoy the few non-mom hours I truly have. I love her snuggles and hugs and kisses and all of the humorous things she does and the means in which she gets so excited when she nurses and the way she pats me lovingly whereas nursing. But the loss of my freedom frustrates me the most. I told a woman at my church that I felt like I had died, but somewhat than say “oh yes, it’s onerous making that transformation” she referred to as in a committee b/c they have been apprehensive about me and that I clearly wanted therapy.
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