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This morning was butt. I don’t sleep, so the hour or two that I do get is precious. Upon waking from said sleep is the worst feeling in the known universe for me. I would rather be trampled by an elephant than go through this intense frustration, anger, and process of pain every morning like I have for the past ten years.

To say movement is hard is a complete understatement. I’m completely wrapped around myself, and sometimes a body pillow, in such a tight fetal position, that my muscles are frozen. It’s like going through the seven layers of Hell all at once, with no reprieve.

Then I see this face.

My sweet little Clara.

My sweet little Clara.

The one face that seems to melt the frustration away. She army crawls over the blankets and pillows to my face and licks my nose. It’s like magic medicine. All of a sudden I’m laughing and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. It’s like she knows that I need the encouragement in the mornings. That little extra nudge showing that she does love and care even if at times I feel like I’m alone in this ongoing battle. I seriously love my little girl.

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