here's why

I feel the need to explain yesterday's post. This week I decided to try to wean off my post-partum anti-depressant. Perhaps not the best week to do so. We were late everywhere we went. On Wednesday, I never did get around to drying my hair, which was fine because the baby later vomited in it, twice. On Tuesday I took Johnny to have a Radiologist watch him drink Barium through an x-ray machine. He didn't tell me anything. I can't sleep, so I'm tired. I'm tired so I'm grouchy and I sort of want to cry all the time. I seldom see Mara anymore (she lives in Vienna for Heavens' sake) but in the last few weeks I have had more contact with her than usual. I read an essay she wrote on the same day that my little boy sobbed in front of an x-ray machine. Her littlest has had many more tests than mine, and they have yet to receive a definitive answer. She wrote about the experience for her and for both of her children. It helped. I didn't feel quite so crazy for insisting that they figure out what is going on with my baby. I didn't feel so alone. She is still full of grace and ideas, so maybe I can be too. Of course, that is assuming that I pick up my prescription this morning, I (to my great disappointment) am not quite ready to regulate my own hormones. But for today I will wear my purple shoes and think of my far away friend who has already done what I am doing and is not only ok, but thriving.