Roadblocks
It has been nearly three months since I first shared my story. I really thought that post would be the difficult one, and it would get easier to share updates from that point on. However, I was kind of wrong. It turns out, sharing things that make you feel vulnerable doesn’t immediately get easier.
My Mother’s Daughter
It’s 10 a.m. on the morning of January 28th and I am elbow deep in the dryer when the phone rings. I have been anxiously awaiting this phone call since Friday afternoon – an entire weekend consumed with wondering why the genetic counselor wanted to set up a follow-up call with me.