at 7 months.
But not the kind you might be thinking of.
The kind under the bathroom sink. The gushing hot water kind. The kind that soaks all the towels in the bathroom, all of the bathroom floor, the carpet in the hallway and anything else within 5 feet. Yeah, that kind.
After the day I had, this was my breaking point.
I carried Shyla seven months and seven months to the day she was delivered we came home to broken water. Beyond. Ironic. Don't you think?
2 comments:
That is weird. I'm sorry you had to deal with that mess!
*hugs* I am so sorry...there is definitely some irony.
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