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9 Days Later

Molly

I'm back home.

I came back home two days ago, much to Harry's excitement and, secretly, Sarah and Mitch's relief. I know they didn't mind housing me, for far too long, but I know they're relived to not have a baby in the house waking them up at weird hours.

I was nervous to come back, I had spent all last week talking to Sarah, my parents, Erica, and my therapist; trying to figure out what to do.

When Harry and I talked last week I couldn't even form a single word, and I think he took that negatively, his shoulders deflating as he waited for me to say something. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he told me to think about it and then he drove me back to my car. He took Belle and I went back to Sarah's.

Thankfully, Sarah wasn't home, and I was able to shut myself out in the guest room, going over every possibility in my head. And honestly, none of them were ideal. All the scenarios in my head left somebody in pain, or alone, or angry.

If Harry stayed home, he would be angry I made him give up his dreams, and I would feel guilty over it, but Belle would have both her parents home. But then again, how great is two unhappy parents for a baby?

If Belle and I went with Harry, he would be happy he got to pursue his dreams, but really how often would we get to see him? Would I basically be a single mom, but worse because I'd be in tour busses and hotels for the better part of a year? And how good is traveling for a baby? Would it make it worse for Belle?

And then the unspoken third option. Harry goes and Belle and I stay. But then that option would damage Harry and I, severely. It could cause us to split to extent that we may not be able to recover from.

So then everyday for a week, I didn't sleep, I barely ate, and I bothered everybody in my life. Going through every scenario and situation. I made pro/con lists, I looked things up online, I reached out to Belle's doctor on advice if I were to travel with her. I talked to my therapist daily.

Everyone gave me advice, but ultimately, they all told me I needed to decide on my own but that they would support me no matter what. Both my parents and Erica told me if I decided to stay back, that I could move in with either of them for help.

And after seven days of advice, anger, anxiety, and sorrow, I reached a hesitant decision.

And then I called Harry.

And now here I am, back home. And although I'm back home, things are not quite back to normal.

The first day back Harry and I tried to pretend like things were fine, tiptoeing around each other and doing our best to be considerate of each other in the house. But honestly, we were both just nervous and didn't know how to talk to each other.

The second day I was back, we sort of avoided each other, which worked out easier than expected because Harry was gone the bulk of the day, I assume either with meetings or the studio.

Today though, I'm determined to talk to him. But first, I have to find him.

I woke up not that long ago, did my morning routine and then took care of Belle, thankfully getting her to settle back into a nap. While I was getting ready I had knots forming in my stomach, nervous to talk to Harry today, but I knew I needed to. I knew we needed to talk to figure all this out, to figure out how this would work logistically. Because I have no idea, if I'm being very honest. And the whole idea of it is making me want to run out the front door and disappear into the wind.

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