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I woke up from a very sad dream, sulked in my sad thoughts, cried buckets, and couldn't console myself. In between my sobs I heard my stomach growling, furious, and made me weak. Too weak to grab my own food. I woke my dearly beloved. He obliged, went down and came back with a pack of cookies and warm milk. He didn't notice that I was crying, oh poor thing he must have been very tired.

The crying can be hormonal, but the tears of joy of having to share this pregnancy with someone who co-authored it is overwhelming. I munched on the cookies, downed it with milk, still crying but happy. Oh but then the thought of someone bringing me my milk made me cry a little bit more. After all, I was grieving for the loss of my father who passed away six years ago. He was that kind of man. I miss him and too bad my children will not experience his warmth and love.