An Apple a Day...

...keeps the doctor away.

Nope.

Doesn't work.

I should know.

From about 9 weeks of pregnancy, I ate at least one apple with peanut butter each day. I couldn't get enough apples. I would eat them for a snack every day mid-morning, cook them in oatmeal for breakfast, and eat slices alongside a sandwich for dinner.

And the doctor didn't stay away.

In fact, the doctors (plural) poked me full of holes and hooked me up to various tubes and made my lie in bed for weeks, and yet they still didn't stay away.

Apples.

I don't think I'll ever be able to look at an apple the same way again.

She should have been born in August. Just as the apples are getting ripe. I was going to do a photo shoot of her in an apple-pickin' basket.

Instead she was born in April. When the apple trees are all a'blossom. She was born after her soul flew to heaven. We said good-bye before we got to say hello.

I had a bag of apples rotting in my refrigerator. Yesterday I threw them out.