ailbhe | The last day of July

I am so glad this month is over.

This has been a really, really hard month, mainly because of things happening just far enough from me that I'm not entitled to feel beaten down by them.

I'm so tired.

There was the woman who missed her own honeymoon because she was having a miscarriage - on her birthday. And the woman who "miscarried" so late in pregnancy that her baby had a funeral. And at least two other miscarriages in more distant families.

There was a friend's first baby and a friend's first grandchild (same baby).

There was my sister's baby, her first non-miscarriage.

There were several birthdays and a friend's new baby, too.

There was a holiday with no washing machine or shower, on an island with no laundrette. With two children with diarrhea.

There was the tick bite which may have had Lyme disease.

There was the first anniversary of Nollaig and Tadhg.

There was the pregnancy which wasn't miscarried, so we could all exhale, for now.

There was disturbed post-holiday sleep, and fitting laminate flooring, and a ton and a half of stress related to Rob's job. Well, maybe a ton and three-quarters.

There was the discovery that since Linnea's birthday she has grown enough to post letters all by herself; she needed to be lifted up to post her birthday party invitations.

There was the evening I spent hours and hours and HOURS balancing our budget after months of not due to disruption and illness and holidays and things.

There was my first SlingMeet.

There was some hideous mental stuff when I was afraid I wouldn't get the drugs to treat my Lyme and might be risking my fertility.

There was the strangely rational doctor who believed what I told him and prescribed the right thing.

There was Linnea, in all her frustrating, infuriating, inspiring glory, and there was Emer, in hers.

There was enough.

Now I would like some boredom, please.