After camping, we headed to Greeley for the rest of our vacation. I was still sore, but I was doing ok. I kept having that nagging "what if" as I would move and hurt. Philip had no idea what had happened, but he could have grown up without me. Things could definitely have been much worse. I had to grin and bare the pain... I was alive! Of course the word had spread and even family that wasn't there was informed of my "adventurous spirit". Everyone was concerned if I was ok, but I was just embarrassed. I was good and determined to enjoy the rest of my vacation!


My Little Bug turned one a couple days later. How is that possible? He was just born? Where did the year go? We celebrated with a small party, pizza, and cake. Philip was a fan of the pizza and his very own chocolate cake. He destroyed it, got it everywhere, and needed a bath afterwards. He was showered with gifts and love by his Colorado family.


These thoughts left me conflicted. Am I crazy to even be thinking about this? What if I have complications again? What if I need a C-Section? What if I have Postpartum Depression and/or Anxiety? I just finished taking my Postpartum medications. Do I want to start them again? I could go on and on with negative what if's, but what if we should try again? What if now is the time? What if I am prepared for these possibilities?

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