Every day for the past few weeks I've put my hand on my belly and said "good morning" or "well, we made it another day." I have barely moved between the couch, the bed, and the office chair. I stand in awe in the mirror occasionally in wonderment as my body explodes in every direction, and I sigh as I try to find a pair of pants that fit and are still clean enough to wear.
This is all good, right?
From the fourth positive pee stick, I decided to submit myself daily to the situation and focus on being in the present in a way that I don't think I've done before. I check in with God, I eat crackers and macaroni & cheese and ice cream and iron-fortified cereal and vitamin B6 and whatever else I can find to beat down the 24/7 nausea and acid reflux, trying to stay one step ahead of hunger and one step behind over-eating. Cuz it's just fun like that. The force is strong with this one.
Good morning Sam (the name I've chosen); today you're the size of a blueberry. I'll love you for as long as you're with me, knowing that if you end up leaving before I get a chance to meet you, I'll see you in Heaven. I envision you growing strong, absorbing nutrients, while my placenta builds steadily and your heart beats and beats.
So I have become a good steward of my body as well as my mind. I am seven weeks along. I waited a couple of weeks to even call my doctor (yes, I am obsessively checking the toilet paper too), but I did stop taking anti-depressants right away. The latter has left me with constant dizzy spells that are finally starting to go away. The last two weeks - between incredible stress at work and exhaustion and sickness - have been hell on me. But the long weekend allows me to inhale a little deeper and sleep in for once.
We went hiking yesterday, which was hilarious. I'd stop periodically and bend over at the waist, expecting to hurl at any moment, then trudge forward as if my legs were swimming through molasses. But we did the loop, which I think was only 1.5 miles, and I was completely spent the rest of the day (despite a nap). Oh well. I like that exhaustion better than other types. I hear exercise is good for me, and I have to make an effort however feeble.