When I want to complain, when I want to just whine about being sick of being sick, I am flooded with the reminders about how much I wanted this. How much we wanted this. How long we worked towards this. I'm so sick of the reminders of how much worse it could be, or how it could not be. And I'm sick of reminding myself. So. sick. of. being. sick. No one will let me forget it. And I won't let myself.
Every single day I am more and more amazed at just how much better God knows me than I know myself.
I cried when I saw the positive pregnancy test. And not in an over-joyed momentous let's frame this moment in our minds kind of way. In a please, please, please, please don't let me mis-carry this baby sort of way.
I called as soon as I could to get an order for labs to confirm, and then waited a few extra days to let the hormones build up. The results came back Friday that they were definitely positive. I called John at work as he was leaving from there to go hiking. At this point, I felt nothing. No symptoms. Absolutely nothing. Saturday Scrunch and I spent the day at home cleaning and hanging out. Sometime that afternoon I felt something. Cramping and spotting. My heart sank. I couldn't reach my husband. There was nothing I could do.
I sat on the couch reminding myself repeatedly not to stress. Stress could exacerbate the situation. Just relax. John will be home soon, though I'm not sure what he was going to be able to do about it. Thankfully, Scrunch went to bed early and I remained on the couch willing this baby to stay.
I finally got a hold of my husband on their drive back and told him to tell Aaron they'd need to give me a blessing when he dropped him off. Close to midnight and still in their grubby clothes, I received a blessing. I went to bed and the next morning was the first time I threw up. I have thrown up every day since.
Morning sickness is some women's physiological response to a rise in hormones. A biological consequence. For me, it has been a not so gentle reminder that I'm not the one in charge, that God has a sense of humor, and that yes, he's listening.
1. Often misinterpreted as a bad characteristic, crazy is used to describe people that are random, hyper, creative, and flat out fun to hang with.(adj.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(261)
-
▼
November
(15)
- We have made our yearly trek to Zion. California h...
- I will never understand.
- Art Appreciation
- Call this whatever you want, just not lazy.
- My Favorite Picture of the Year
- How to Pick a Fantasy Football QB
- A Day Out
- Cell phones make you dumber.
- If the days were twice as long, and I had four tim...
- A Not So Gentle Reminder
- The Corny Stage
- Freely Giving
- Pet pet peeves
- S.O.S.
- Sunday
-
▼
November
(15)
4 comments:
Yeah...sometimes I think God has a wicked sense of humor...
Thank you for the reminder. I am still sick and sometimes I get stuck on the sick part that I forget the miracle and His will and plan. Thank you.
Good post. I'll never understand the universe.
I heard you are pregnant! I am so happy for you and pray that everything continues to go well! :)
Post a Comment