Saturday, January 21, 2017

On Being Present

I normally scoff at the idea of having a "word of the year," but this year I really felt like I needed and wanted to focus on being PRESENT and intentional with my time and my relationships. The irony has not escaped me that we are 21 days into the new year and I'd rather be anywhere but here.

Far be it from me to compare my babies, but since pregnancy is my own body and my own hormones, I feel like I can say this: the past two months have been AWFUL. Some say it's because I'm having a girl. I feel like it's because I'm 31 years old and not 28. All I know is, I missed being pregnant so much after my first delivery, and right now, today, I cannot for the life of me imagine why. My skin is flaring up into all sorts of weird, unflattering rashes. My angry immune system got slammed with a respiratory virus two weeks ago that took me down for a full 5-6 days. I've been short of breath from the get-go. I know I need prenatal vitamins, but I can.not. stomach them most days.

I pray that those fun pregnancy days are to come: the wiggles and hiccups and the oneness that you can't help but feel with that little heart beating away. For now, while I'm ever so grateful that baby's heart IS beating away in there, I'm just sick.

The first time around, I had a constant level of queasiness, and I certainly had plenty of food aversions, but I also had cravings. Some foods tasted phenomenal and I ate them again and again. Right now? Gag me. NOTHING sounds good. If something sounds remotely appetizing, I do my best to eat it, but I inevitably feel sick afterwards and never want to eat that food again. This week, I finally had 2-3 days of feeling pretty close to normal. Acupuncture, herbs, twice-daily meds, and gestational age seemed to be on my side. Thursday morning, I told a friend I was on the downhill side of the nausea, and I ate a whole plate of food at our MOPS breakfast. That night, I started getting symptoms of the stomach bug Noah's had all week.

And today, I'm having a major pity party. The sun was out this morning, and I couldn't even get out of bed. I long to work up a sweat (that's not a night sweat or a fever-breaking sweat), but I haven't worked out since the nausea started at 5 weeks. You know what? It's January. It's gray. It's cold. I'm freaking out about how much life is already changing. I need endorphins.

I hate seeing how scared and sad Noah looks when I sit in the bathroom, waiting to throw up. ("Mama need burp.") It breaks my heart to hear him say, "Mama don't lay down anymore" when, out of necessity between fatigue and nausea, I've spent the better part of December and January in a horizontal position.

So God, help me be faithful. Help me be PRESENT. Help me see you here. Not because it could be worse (because it could). Not because it will hopefully be better soon. Although I pray that this sickness does not last the entire pregnancy. But because you made me, you knit me in my mother's womb, and I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Every day of every one of my pregnancies was numbered before I was born, and I'm honored to be a vessel for new life. THIS IS A SEASON. Very likely the end of my last first trimester ever. I don't want to wish it away. Okay, I do. But I don't WANT to want to wish it away.

I love that I do feel movement already. I can't wait for our 20 week ultrasound to see baby and find out if there's a he or a she in there. I love that at 12 weeks with this one, my belly basically looks like it did at 20 weeks with the first. I laugh at myself in hindsight, because while I was legitimately really insecure about gaining weight early on with Noah, long before I gained a belly, I'd take that awkwardness any day now, because it would mean I'm eating real food.

I'm confused, I'm tired, I'm sick, I'm SO emotional. But let the record show that I was here.

(Also, let the record show that Ross is working his butt off to do everything I'm not doing right now, and that Noah has the sweetest heart ever and he keeps giving me kisses to help me feel better.)

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