I know I should be excited when Kirby comes home, but it just makes me depressed. I hate seeing him wait on me hand and foot- yet without him I would go thirsty and hungry and wear the same clothes all week. I probably would have fallen all wobbly on those crutches, too (and broke something else). The problem is I am weak.
He has been doing laundry, dishes, even picking out my clothes... everything. Everything I should be doing. Plus everything the care of me requires. My dropped chapstick, adjusting the pillows under my leg- the list continues endlessly. I hate to be so dependent. I feel like such a burden. I'm afraid of asking too much because I know my basic needs are many as it is.
This injury really can make a person wonder if the trouble is worth it. I'm certaintly not productive or pulling my weight.
I know I'm emotional as it is being pregnant and all that goes along with it. I cried a ridiculous amount today- over everything.
I'm sure I look awful; I feel awful, ugh. I can't ask for more. I'm afraid enough will be enough and I have a ways to go with this frankenankle... And our baby that will arrive before I'm walking. Did I mention I'm a little freaked about giving birth this way?
Speaking of baby- the little guy is squishing my bladder. It's very painful to get up with all the blood rushing down and the pressure and stuff so I must end this and start the process.