“You said I was free to go wherever I wish here.” I remind him. “I want to go to the kitchen.”
“You may go to the kitchen if you like,” He agrees, “but not if you’re only going to fill up on ice cream. That baby needs more than sugar and fat to grow big and strong.”
The more this goes on, the more I feel like a child. Here I am, demanding sweets when I know it isn’t best for my child, but I can’t help the cravings I’m experiencing. The baby wants what it wants, and there’s no reasoning with my hormones. They are stronger than any PMS or mood swing I’ve ever experienced before, it makes me feel like a different person. I’m a mature adult, I’ve been on my own my whole life – I raised myself and Cora, even though she’s older. So why do I feel like crying again simply because I’m not going t
