We’ve been busy.
If anyone was wondering why I haven’t been returning phone calls, going places, and avoiding eye contact with other humans outside of my own family, this is why. We’re due in September and have had about a million doctor’s appointments and a million-and-two ultrasounds. We are happy and hopeful and so overwhelmed by this awesome blessing…and maybe also a little bit scared to death.
I’ve been sick as a pregnant dog since the beginning of January. And emotional. And incredibly tired. And because of the *awesome* progesterone pills my doctor prescribed, I’m pretty much barely functioning in every way a person can barely function.
Sidenote: progesterone? I’ve known a few people who have taken it during early pregnancy–and NO ONE bothered to mention how freaktastically suckish this hormone supplement really is. Behold, THE HORRORS of progesterone: Don’t count on digesting food while you’re on the stuff. And that moment when you can’t sleep at all but you feel as though you can’t do anything else except sleep and you kind of want to drive a fork up your nostrils? Learn to love it, because it never ends. Also, dizziness: making driving a car sort of like playing Mario Kart, high. So basically, all the super-fun symptoms of early pregnancy rolled together and multiplied 41 times over.
But I’ll take it, and I’ll deal with it; and I’d take it my whole life long if it means keeping this baby. I know this is not true, but I keep going over and over in my head all the things I could have done/could not have done the last time around. I’ve sworn off caffeine and believe me when I say it was almost harder than that time I quit drinking alcohol. I won’t lift anything remotely heavy.
I’ve spent a lot of time resting, and here are some movies I’ve cried like a baby over recently: Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2, The Croods, and also when I saw Tyrese with a most excellent Judith strapped to his chest–I know it’s not technically a movie, but the moment itself was just so tender. I just get so emotional.
I have even stopped biting my nails–which is a huge deal, since I’ve bitten them down to nubs since I was 3. I am kind of legendary for my stubby, garbled, man-fingers. And now? I have nails–little strips of white nails on my very own hands. I feel so girly, and also inconvenienced because nails get in the way of everything. But maybe they’re lucky.
And we’ve been praying. Praying so much that I wonder if God is tired of hearing from me. He has been working on me hardcore these past few months. I feel like whatever the outcome, I know this time is meant to teach and prepare us for something that will be used for a bigger purpose.
There are a few reasons we’ve waited this long to spread the good news; the main ones being Mia and Merrick–I couldn’t bear the thought of getting them all excited…just incase. So we decided to tell them after the most risky weeks. And they were beside themselves with joy. Also–and I can rarely keep a secret so you know I was tormented over this–I kind of didn’t want to talk about it…much. Like saying or acknowledging anything would jinx it. It’s silly.
But, here we are. And we’re pumped.