The sacrifice of my toes

While hurrying down the stairs on Saturday to get the laundry started (and more importantly to get to the hot fudge Sunday Brian brought home as a surprise) I slipped and fell on the last few steps in our townhouse. It was more of a slide and I bounced down the last few steps on my rear. Everything is ok so no worries, baby and I, for the most part, are fine. My two toes on my left foot took the brunt of the impact. I've got a nice bruise on my middle toe and haven't been able to wear anything but flip flops since the fall, so I just hobble around with cold feet. I don't think anyone has even noticed my slight limp, which just proves to me that I must have had a significant waddle going already.

The incident was more shocking than anything. I was certain I was going to go into labor like on TV. And for a while every slight twinge gave me an anxiety attack. But now I am calm again. Everything is good and our lil' bean is still kicking away in there. It is amazing how attached I already am to this little person that I haven't even met yet. I just want her to be safe, nothing else matters, I'll take the sprained toe to save her any ounce of discomfort.