i found the ones of us dating amusing... the ones of our first child filled with joy... the ones of our son entertaining at first. until the chronology of the events go backwards and i found myself staring at his wound and stomas. then to the day when he was born. he looked so healthy and very normal. handsome even. argh. these pictures sucked me right back into the realm of negativity and my mind automatically switched to its quiry mode and tried to trace back to what went wrong.
as usual, we always stopped at the usual suspect, me. out loud, i often analysed and told friends that its due to my incompetent gynea's negligence. but when i am alone, i cant stop thinking it was me.
did it strengthen me and make me a better person?
or did it break me? cause i never feel or look the same again after that.
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