Jason just asked what I had on my face.
"It's a zit," I told him.
"But it's big and red," he said.
"That's because I just picked at it."
And then for added measure I reminded him, "You are married to me. You have to love me even with big red zits on my face."
He said that he did.
We're having a little bit of drama here. Maybe it's trauma.
Trauma because I'm worried that I might be miscarrying.
The baby and I have had a long talk about how it's a bad idea...
And I've suggested the same thing to God...
But for now I'm just hanging out in bed waiting for the doctor to call me back.
It's probably nothing serious...
Maybe I'm just bleeding to bleed. (Is that too much information?)
But until we know for sure, perhaps if you think about it, you might say your own little prayer for the little one.