Maybe I mourn her because she is so very different from who I am now, I built my life so much around these very physical things I used to to.

I was an exotic vibrant sexy belly dancer
I was a hiker, mountain biker, shake the trail dust off my saddle tom girl type.
I was a size 14 toned and fit.
I was an artist with a temper, a bit impatient too.
A singer, a dancer, swimmer, spontaneous and fun.
I planned to travel to do what I studied for Anthroplogy. I was even invited by my professor to go with his crew to the Amazon the following summer, before my accident.
I wanted children at least three that I could teach all these fun things! To run and giggle with them.


Now every step is small slow and measured.
Every day must be planned carefully now patience is mandatory for myself and others.
The magic that made my art come to life is all but gone, it is Just gone and I don't know how or really why.
A single touch can all but kill me if done wrong.
I can barely walk a quarter of a mile, no less hike bike or ride 14 miles (my record mountain biking).
I am now a pale bloated size 20, I don't feel sexy at all so why should my special someone see me as sexy? Not to mention the deed itself.
I miss the dancing most it was every day it was for fitness and fun.
I guess, I am still am doing anthropology just not in the field I had hoped for. Now I study people in pain or around pain.

As for children, I don't feel it is very fair to bring one into this world by choice, Where their mother can't dance with them, run with them or worst case run to save them. Where she promises things she will repeatedly have to go back on or postpone because of pain. Where she won't be able to stand and rock them or pick them up from the floor or kneel down to kiss their booboos. Where dinner won't get made most nights, where their mother can't take care of herself let alone them.