Here's what I learned thus far this year:
No matter how long or how fast I run on the treadmill, I cannot run away from my problems.
I'm hoping to soon find out if mass quantities of alcohol will help.
Short version of the story, my pelvis is too small.
I shouldn't have let my hopes rise. I should have kept insisting we were just done. But I got ahead of myself and started thinking the test results would have good news. I was wrong.
To be fair, I must say there are some things that can be done to make the likeliehood of a normal delivery more likely, but even if they make a huge difference, there's no guarantee that would be enough. Plus it puts a huge strain on my family and me.
So now I just don't know.
All I know is that I want a drink...
and to kick my pelvis' ass.
But um...yeah. You see the inherent problem here.