I know I've admitted this on the blog before, but when I'm having a rough time, I tend to go on hiatus in every area of my life. I try to disappear until things are going better and I have something to offer again. Have you noticed a little absence here on the blog? I can't lie. It's been an extra-rough bad time, and what felt like the worst part is that I'm supposed to be happy about it.
Do you remember when I was pregnant with Milo? I puked from 8 weeks right on through the entire second trimester (just FYI, most people stop between weeks 12 and 14), lost weight instead of gaining, and spent an entire summer (after I was finished teaching summer school) locked in my house. It was a pretty bad time.
Bad doesn't even begin to explain how the last two weeks have gone, though (And honestly, has it only been two weeks? It feels like it's been forever). Not only have I puked all day and all evening, I've been completely unable to sleep, sometimes puking 6 or 7 times a night until I finally gave in and took a Zofran. But unlike pregnancy with Milo, Zofran hasn't even helped - just left me dry-heaving instead of bringing anything up. I haven't been able to eat anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, which makes me barely energetic enough to roll over, so I've lain in the recliner almost non-stop, lethargically praying that Milo will completely forget this time in both of our lives ever existed. Which brings me to the topper - last time, I just had me to worry about, and if I wanted to lie in bed crying all day, that was my business. This time, I've got a little man who needs attention, love, and to have his diaper changed... It's been discouraging to say the very least.
And then yesterday happened. I'd been up most of the night again, but was trying so hard to wake up with a positive attitude. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and needed to at least be able to get myself out of the house without collapsing. Nate went with me because it was ultrasound day, and when we finally made it to the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time we got back to the room, I felt so completely peaceful, and when we saw that little baby's heartbeat, something inside me clicked. I might be sick, but it hasn't been without purpose. I'm growing a tiny little sprout that will be here next summer, a perfect little mix of Nate and I. I'm making one of the most precious gifts I can ever give to Milo - a sibling. And for goodness' sake, as wonderful as Milo is, I should be planning to have at least a few more, right? (Well, let's not get crazy. For now, one more should do.)
So all this to say, a little change in perspective can make all the difference. I'm going to keep writing on my blog, through the good days and the bad. I'm going to try to have a positive attitude, but not be afraid to be a little messy every now and then. And I'm going to just be thankful that this time will pass quickly and bring a brand new day.