Dear T:

There is so much uncertainty in the months ahead, and I'm going to need to give so much of myself. I feel like a soon to be hybernating animal storing up for winter, except it's not about food and it's not about taking a rest. It's about not putting myself first-- which, to be honest, doesn't happen that much, just like every other mother-- but the pull of my dreams and the push of reality pretty much sucks. I don't want these responsibilities, although I certainly signed up for them, and I feel bad about that. I want more playtime and personal attention, but it looks like that is not happening anytime soon. In the past anticipation of the future felt kind of sweet, but now it feels a little more torturous.