the worst day

Last night I watched the returns in growing horror and disbelief. We were going to go to bed after the west coast came in at 11pm because there was nothing to be gained by staying up and continuing to obsess about it. I couldn't even get up from the couch; Himself held me and patted my hair while I sobbed until about 11:30. When we finally did go to bed, he saw me scrolling at a couple of tabs on my phone and gently asked if I was still trying to make the news be something other than what it was. I put the phone down and turned off the light and started to cry again. Himself, who cannot sleep (nor stay asleep) if anyone is touching him, reached over and patted my shoulder as I tried to breathe evenly, and when I said But you won't be able to sleep if you're holding my hand, he said I know, but I don't want you to have to cry yourself to sleep.

I love him so much.

One way or another, the baby will be here in two weeks. That will be awesome. So something good will have come out of 2016. (Precious little.)