So, you know when you’re pregnant, and you decide to try to cut out doing so much of what you really aren’t required to do until you stop getting sick quite so much to see if that helps?
But then you meet this very impressive woman–a friend of a friend–and during the course of a night’s conversation with a group of, actually all quite inspiring women who happen to all be mothers of broods of tiny children, you learn that this particular woman, an ob-gyn, while literally in labor with her own child, performed a major surgery, which happened to be on an HIV-positive patient (apparently her partners at the time would not have taken kindly to her leaving the patient for them to take care of, so she felt like she had to do it before going off to have her baby, but that’s another story)…and you think, well, then…
So the next day, you paint your kitchen, take your children to 37 places that they have been wanting to go, write four (pretty bad, yet finished) writing assignments, and post on your neglected blog, all of which could wait, and none of which was major surgery, but still.
And, sure, maybe you throw up a little more, and eat a little less, but, somehow, feel a little more industrious and a bit more balanced and more like yourself…or is that guilt?
