When I became pregnant, the diaper came to symbolize my absolute crippling fear of impending motherhood. That seemingly benign little plastic white pant with the powdery scent and the smiling muppet on the band -- it was my own personal hell.
You see, in all my 36 years of life on this planet, I had yet to change one.
I was a relatively content childless woman before Nate's one lucky sperm did the wild thang with one of my eggs....
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