I'm still alive, despite my worries about dehydration yesterday. I couldn't even keep down small bits of water. Isn't projectile vomiting fun? (/sarcasm)
I woke up today feeling a million times better and had some soup and just ate a small plate of leftovers. If I still feel good in a little while, I am going to try a small piece of sweet potato pie since I didn't have any on Thanksgiving.
It was good to see family, and Thanksgiving was okay, but I'm going to blame my sickness for being weak and too tired to write anything about it right now. Instead, I'm going to ask if anyone read this essay in the NYT magazine about using a surrogate. While I doubt I would ever be best friends with the author, I appreciated it and her honesty and was *disgusted* by the comments that people left. I get that people don't see infertility as on the same level as other diseases, but I don't understand the vitrol that it seems to inspire. What other disease gets you labeled as "selfish" for trying to treat it?