Harvest

It's harvesting day tomorrow. Yep. Knock me out and take them out. Don't pay the ferryman until I wake up I beg my husband. Ate ice cream and watched stupid videos last night and have been attempting to sleep ever since with little-to-no success. I am thirsty but no water until it is done. I want it to work so badly. I feel like I've prayed to every sense of a spirit that might exist but no doubt I'm a poser. A typical pray in time of need modern secular capitalist. Pray to give me what I want. Pray and be specific out of fear of a twisted sense of humor on the part of something "upstairs." So, say, I'll get pregnant but miscarry again. Or, I'll get pregnant and give birth to some raging Rosemary child. Or a half-wit. So, I've tried for clarity as though the specificity will improve my odds. I've had no wine, no alcohol of any kind. I've worked hard to avoid stress and have tried to remain positive and optimistic. I'm dabbling. But I'm scared because my desire is so palpable.