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Ocean
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I was still feeling so uncomfortable. Every day the babies moved lower and pressed on more things that just hurt me. I was ready to get them out of me, but I was also scared. I was afraid to have a surgery and get cut open, even if it was a necessary thing. I was still really scared about it.
I guess that at the moment, I was just so torn. I was having trouble with what I was feeling. Like, I was torn between rip me open and get them the fuck out of me and no, they're my babies, they need to stay in there a little longer.
I started to wonder if I was crazy, or if this was something that most pregnant people went through. I was thinking that, given the discomfort that I was feeling, it was the latter of the two.
