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"I was digging through my desk last night trying to locate W2&amp;#x27;s that came in the mail this past week. I&amp;#x27;m really excited to do my taxes. Yeah Right. I found something scribbled on a piece of yellow legal pad paper. I didn&amp;#x27;t remember the day until I read it. Over and over...September 13, 2007 (JD is two weeks old) I took the long way home from the doctor. The warm afternoon sun washed in through the sunroof. The sad feeling attacked me all of a sudden. It crept up on me immediately. I felt like something was wrong, like I forgot to do something or that something really bad was about to happen. I found my purse on the seat next to me and there was gas in the tank. I came to a red light and stared up at the sky. It was bright and bleeding with light from all angles. It looked like a dream and it should have because I was in one of those moments where I couldn&amp;#x27;t believe what happened here. I dwelled on it for a moment. I closed in on my reality. I am a single mother living in NJ. The weekend is coming but I won&amp;#x27;t be going out. My pelvis aches where the scar runs. He hasn&amp;#x27;t called to see about his son. Is this really my life? Me? I drove down familiar roads until I pulled into the apartment complex I decided I hate. The tween boys in this complex are rude and say f*ck a lot. The superintendent doesn&amp;#x27;t speak English. I could tell him I sent my rent to Mars and he would nod and say &amp;quot;Yeah!&amp;quot; I wanted to steal away, veer back onto the road and drive around to nowhere--or somewhere. I don&amp;#x27;t think I belong here. I parked and went inside though. Baby sleeping on the couch in a half-moon-shaped pillow--my brother sitting next to him with one palm barely touching down on Baby&amp;#x27;s stomach. Okay. Deep. Facing my truth is so f*cked up. You&amp;#x27;ll see in Rattled!... I did some digging. On September 14, 2007 I wrote this. A tamer version, I think--I must have been too scared to share above and too weighed down to keep it inside just for me. I put pen to paper. Do you ever look through old journals? Greeting cards? Memory boxes?"^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/storked/2009/01/i-was-digging-through-my>