Tick tock head, weighs my decision to leave work in April.
“Was that wise? What about the money? The security?”
Tick tock body, reminds me of the priorities. Our ‘blasters’, we call them. Our day six blastocyst embryos, suspended at -196 degrees. Two of our fab four will be transferred into my womb in May.
“They deserve your full attention.”
Writing this, I feel relief.
And yet, still I crave the certainty of perfect decisions, perfect timing, perfect outcomes.
If you offered me a book, however, with everything that happens in the next twelve months, I wouldn’t want to know.