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You know when there are those times in your life when you try to muster every bit of coolness and braveness and move courageously into the future, and then every bit of it deserts you, and you don’t know if you can be cool or brave for one more second.

I’m a really strong woman. I have survived some tough gigs, and at times during those I was super cool, and super brave. But sometimes, I’m not like that, and I don’t want to have to survive another tough gig so I can tell a cool story about it one day. Even though my cool stories can be pretty funny.

Sometimes, when it’s too scary to look forward, reminiscing is much more fun. Today, in the midst of melting I told my biggest girl the story of how much beer I drank before I knew I was pregnant with her, but how I wouldn’t admit it out loud until she was four and clearly not damaged by my decision to have another $1 pot because I was tired, grumpy, getting fat and in complete denial that they were anything other than me getting old (being all of 21). I am brilliant (absolutely) at not looking at things sometimes, and even though I had not had my period for 3 months, was putting on weight, was really tired, grumpy and nauseated ALL THE TIME (to the point that my body wouldn’t let me drink more than 2 beers without feeling ill and needing to go home to bed), I did not FOR ONE SECOND consider that I could be pregnant. Even when the doctor doing the (instant) test put it to one side and asked how I’d be if I was having a baby I made some jovial comments about love and being nearly graduated (cool and brave see!). So when she said “That’s great, you’re having a baby” and I got hysterical, she was mildly surprised. By the time I had a dating ultrasound I was 16 weeks pregnant. Whoops.

Yep, right now there’s something I don’t really want to look at. There’s a big, fat life change that is NOT another child that is descending upon me, and us and I wish I still drank beer so I could ignore it for a bit longer. So excuse me today if I’m not cool or brave. Allow me to use some of my denial brilliance to not look at what it all means. And maybe tomorrow I’ll be something else. Cooler. Braver.


Author Fleur

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