I was fake sick. Not, mind, faking it. But, you know the kind of sick where you’re just like, look. I need a day to clear this. That’s a cold. Danielle and Claire. Whew. That’s sick. Claire is on the mend as far as we can tell. Significantly less coughing on her part today than yesterday. So, positive movement. This cold is wrecking Danielle’s ability to breathe. And you know when you’re pregnant, especially like twelve months pregnant like Danielle, this stuff has to be seen by a doctor.
It’s all very unnerving for me. I think because her primary issue is breathing. Which I can’t do anything for. And it’s weird to stare at both of them while they’re sleeping. Right? As though if I don’t watch them, they might not breathe. It’s akin to flying and feeling compelled to hold the airplane in the air through the armrests.
I remember feeling like that about Claire for the first several weeks after we brought her home. Every time she slept I’d have to check on her and make sure. On that timeline back to normalcy, a week after Danielle feels better I’ll be able to stop staring at her while she sleeps. This may complicate our marriage.
Outside of crazy town, where I am currently Mayor, they’re both doing well. Danielle is taking the day to rest, my mom is going to take Claire to day care and I’m back at work. So, for a family with a two year old on the mend and a wife that’s like eight months pregnant and sick with The Plague, everything is totally normal and fine. You forget these moments, after the kids are born. You do. And then you relive them and the sheer panic seems vaguely familiar. Making a family is weird.