It has been one of them days - she was uber gassy, meaning she wanted me to hold her all day long. I spent 2 and a half hours trying to get our stuff all sorted so that we could go over at my grandma's.. I kept failing at doing stuff though, as the moment I put her in the car seat, pram or bed, she would start screaming, crying and wailing.
I gave up on getting stuff done after managing to prepare 1 bottle, and called my mum, and told her what was going on. She opted to come over and give me a hand. She arrived whilst I was feeding Morgan, and once done, she kept Morgan company whilst I did a few chores and gathered our things.
In the meanwhile, I was faced with having to take the decision as to whether I'd be going out or not in the evening. A friend tried to convince me to do so - and so did my mum.. And my grandma.
Since Morgan seemed to feel better, especially after pooping an epic poo - complete with an encore, nonetheless! - I decided to say "Fuck it" and go out.
The same friend who tried to convince me to go out picked me up - wheeeeeee! It had been a couple of years since I rode on a motorbike, so in spite of the wardrobe awkwardness (I had pre-packed a dress just in case I decided to go out... A dress which I tucked firmly under me so as not to accidentally flash all those we drove past), that was fun!
I called my mum the moment we got here to let her know all was well.. And most importantly, to ask whether Morgan was ok.
I miss her so friggin much. Like, REALLY miss her. It has only been about 2 and a half hours since I left... And yet, I can't help but miss her.
This is me sighing.
I'll write some more later.
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