It's early – even the birds are cranky at this hour. I've been awake for 10 minutes, and I have already stripped the vomit-soaked crib sheet, thrown it into the wash, and nearly finished bathing my feverish toddler. He's screaming, trying to climb out of the tub, and yelling for the waffle he's supposed to be eating instead of being subjected to the torture of bath time.
At what age does it happen? When do we, as people, stop believing that we can be anything we want to be?
I’d wanted a baby all my life. I’d wanted one for so long it turned into a need. This need for motherhood occupied my thoughts, it was the chisel that shaped present day decisions, and it inevitably found its way into all plans for the future. I would have a child of my own, I decided, one way or another.
My husband has abandoned me for a nine-week vacation in Alabama. Alright, so maybe it’s not actually a vacation, but a rigorous, specialized training required by the United States Air Force. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.
Come with me, if you will, on a journey through the worst travel day of my life. I was alone with my toddler to take several flights across the country – a trip that would last a total of ten hours if nothing went wrong. I probably could just end the story right there, couldn’t I?