Just a Misunderstanding
If there is one thing that is really hard for me (to deal with), it's being misunderstood. Whether it is the intention of my actions, or the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes, I want to be understood. One of the prime examples is from the birth of our second son. While in labor, and just minutes before he made his presence known, I was in the middle of a hard contraction. The pressure against my lungs was immense. I couldn't catch my breath. I felt like I was going to pass out. I gasped out, "I can't..." But before I could say, "Breathe," one of the nurses rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, yes, you can." Seriously? I had my first son with no drugs whatsoever. I know what natural childbirth feels like. I wanted to scream at her, "I know what I'm going through. I just can't BREATHE!" But, alas, my next contraction hit, and my mind shifted to more pressing issues than straightening out the nurse. :o) ...
