All of your prayers, acts of kindness and good wishes have carried us to this point: half-way through therapy. First of all, don't you love that this is called "therapy?" It sounds so optional, like I'm getting over a fear of spiders or something.
I reserve the right to take back all of these words later, should the bottom fall out and I am completely miserable, but can I just say - This is not as horrible as I thought it would be.
My hair is falling out. All the time, it's raining hair around me. It's kind of gross. All of our garbage cans are full of hair. And yet, so far, I just have a small bald spot that is coverable by a large flower. So, I sort of look like an infant, but it's better than a wig.
I'm not nauseous. I'm not puking. I eat. I'm getting some sleep. I found a few cute hats. I'm driving. I've been to Simon's school a few times. We've been able to spend time with friends. Annie knows that night is night and day is day. I get twenty minutes of quiet all to myself five days a week. The breast to bottle transition was neither smooth nor painless, but it's done.
I am extra tired. But, Ben, my mom and Bayley have taken care of me and taken care of the kids - all FOUR of them. And we are well. Now we just have to talk Bayley into dropping out of college so she doesn't have to leave us next week :)