I stayed in bed all day yesterday. I couldn't get up. I couldn't eat. My back hates me for it today.
My daughter snuggled and cuddled me. She helped me to feel much better. She asked me, "Does this mean I am the baby in the house again?" I told her that she's always been my baby.
Can I tell you that this hurts like hell? I gave her up to go live in a homeless shelter in the Bronx. She has a perfectly warm, clean bed and her siblings here and I am forced to send her out in the cold. Watching that train roll away is probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. The system here is broken...I am too small to fix it by myself.