That said, a lot of the nausea is subsiding, so long as I eat. But then my stomach is crazy weird and at random will just decide that 1/2 a bagel was way too much food and I'll *ahem* experience the loveliness that is my body rejecting my food. It makes me a bit anxious every time I have to eat something, so that I subconsciously avoid eating or eat ridiculously tiny amounts of food (a cheese stick counts as a full lunch, right?).
|Baby Blue Ivy gave mama Beyonce "the glow."|
Me right now? Yeah, not so much.
And the puking...oh, the puking. One night I just couldn't stop (but only for about 20 minutes which, in context of it being 45-60 minutes a few times with Roger, isn't so bad) and, humiliating as this is to admit, when you violent vomit for that long uncontrollably it affects bladder function and basically every seizing of the diaphragm helps push urine right on out. So I soiled myself, vomited until my face muscles were cramping (did you know that can happen? Sure can!), and though it was futile sat on the toilet when it was all over and sobbed so hard that Jason (who had been praying for me in the living room with Rog--I refuse to let either of them be there mid-vomit) came and just stroked my head saying, "I'm so sorry babe," while Roger looked at me with a fairly perplexed look on his face, trying to figure it all out. Add to that the fact that I puke every time I brush my teeth (without fail) and that the shower makes me super particularly dizzy and...well...it's been a challenging time.
As a result I keep losing weight. I'm honestly not trying to. But, at a time when weight loss is a depressing thing, I quit stepping on the scale because literally every time I did (LITERALLY literally, not literally-for-emphasis-literally) I had lost a minimum of another half a pound, usually a full pound. Losing 5 pounds in as many days would normally be lovely but...yeah. Not so much when you're building a baby.
|11 weeks today!|
The thing is, at the same time, I feel incredibly blessed. I look at my darling son, who is on the verge of turning one(!), and though I cannot see the future I feel a peace that I will hold my darling second child in my arms in 30 or so weeks. To be honest, I had a nagging at the back of my mind that, come on, what are the chances of not just being super fertile so that we're two for two on condomless copulations resulting in a baby and then a healthy baby that "sticks" at that? But then the peace just came out of nowhere (praise Jesus that sometimes he just works that way, giving sweet grace we didn't ask for) and the truth that Jesus is good, he loves us, this child is a blessing, and it's ok that pregnancy is hard and that I'm not glowing (yet! I hope!) just washed over me and somehow it's not any less hard but totally less hard. Yes, that was an awful sentence in almost every way. Still good stuff :)
|Jesus is filling our quiver and we are blessed.|