The fog is lifting

You guys... I'm alive. In fact, I'm pretty convinced that I'm going to stay alive too. All the way to September. This is BIG news. Considering how I have been feeling the past 7.5 weeks, I was pretty convinced that either A. this entire pregnancy was going to be one big gag-fest or B. I would die. Of nausea. Which I'm pretty sure no one has ever died of, but I was going to be the first. And they would write medical journals about me. Hey I always wanted to be published right?

No joke though, this morning sickness has been A to the wful. I don't know if it was a combination of things - one major one being taking care of a small child while doing it, but man, this time was hard. Crazy hard.

I wavered between putting on a strong face and mustering my way through another awful afternoon/evening of sickness. And then there were days I threw a huge pity party about how awful life was. To which I'm sure God looked at me like I look at Luke when he freaks out because he got marker on his finger. (This is the kid who will go #2 and sit for hours without complaining but one stray marker mark on any part of his body and it's complete meltdown mode. Sounds awfully familiar to the "look at the plank in your own eye before checking out the speck in someone else's" yes? Son - you have bigger problems in your pants than what is on your fingers... catch my drift?)

Where was I? Ah yes, the part where I sometimes was a whiny baby about the sickness that has been my life for the past 7.5 weeks. (Yes, I've been counting.)

Well starting on Friday I started to feel a glimmer of hope. I stopped taking the Zofran last Wednesday and the nasty feeling I've had 24/7 in the pit of my stomach has started to dissipate. Sure, I still feel a tad bit gaggy in the mornings but I can live with that.

In fact, I even curled my hair, put on full make-up and actually made an attempt to get dressed for church yesterday. I did it all again today. #operationtakemylifeback #lightattheendofthetunnel

Proof I actually "did life" today.

The one thing that hasn't left me is the insomnia (which I never had with Luke). So when I found myself laying in bed Sunday morning at 6am I decided to get up and have some quiet time. I always used to get up before Luke for a sweat sesh and some quiet time but since the fog descended upon me, well, let's just say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Anyways, this particular quiet time had me crying. Thank you pregnancy hormones. Crying that I didn't handle this whole "sickness" thing with much grace. (I've never been known to be a
"silent sufferer"). And I was once again reminded that I'm not perfect. And I mess things up. Pity parties get thrown. Guilty party of 1.

But through it all I'm reminded that even with all the sickness and all my cray-cray, God is still good. He is still blessing us more than we deserve by giving us this little miracle we currently call baby T2.

And I'm thankful that "this too shall pass" really is true. That I won't be sick forever. That God is merciful and providing relief. That there is a healthy, growing baby inside of me. And that's it's the 2nd and probably last time I will get to "assist" God in a miracle.

Does this mean it's all rainbows and unicorns from here on out? Certainly not. Pregnancy is not for the faint of heart and I will probably let my hormones get the best of me. At least 10 more times. But thankfully there is grace. Grace upon grace upon grace. For when I'm less than perfect and God is kind enough to remind me that it's ok if I'm not... but that I also need to "check myself before I wreck myself." Yah I went there.

But for today... I'm thankful. And I'm excited. Excited to start feeling better. Excited to start looking pregnant. Excited to find out what this baby is. Excited to feel this baby move. Excited to finally get my life back.  Heck, I'm even excited to cook dinner tonight. I'm sure my husband is too.