Dinosaur Burps
That’s what I sounded like this morning… a dinosaur burping. I think the flu has finally passed. Those who know me will not be suprised to know I went to a gun show and outdoor show and dog park Saturday, consuming a cheese dog, nachos, peanut butter fudge and lanjaegers. This is all, of course, barely after making it 12 hours not being sick. So… I was super-super-super-sick again on Saturday night and well into Sunday morning. I finally had a tuna fish bagel last night and the only remnants of my stomach bug are my dinosaur burps. I think I’m pretty hungry now. I’m trying to decide what to eat for breakfast before I go to work… tough decisions.
Lately I have been struggling with the “fact” that pregnancy is made out to be this amazing journey during which you’ll glow and be so excited and although the delivery itself is amazingly painful and taxing on your body, it is worth it. I don’t recall anyone mentioning that morning sickness comes in so many different costumes and times of day. Or that hormones don’t just make you weep during sad movies, they also can make you parranoid and for those who struggle with deppression, can make the battle feel like a losing one. I don’t recall being told that the symptoms don’t just come on strong in the beginning and then slowly taper off – they come and go and sometimes disappear altogether. I remember being shocked when I heard how common miscarriage is – since I felt so alone. I feel so weak and vulnerable, scared and unsure. I feel I’m not going to be a good mom although I “play mom” every day and I feel I do a pretty good job. Not to mention being a mom has been the end of my “what do you want to be when you grow up?” questions my entire life.
I think I’m a worrier by nature. I can nurture others but taking care of me has never been my strong point and being in this position where I have a little body inside of me, with its own heartbeat and its own God-given soul, which only I can protect at this point in time, is very overwhelming. Taking care of me is the only way this baby stands a chance.
The more I think about how I feel about being a mother, and my child being under someone else’s care so I can work and on and on, I think I am leaning towards staying at home. We’re trying to see how we can make it happen, but we have time. I so dearly want to order a crib, but I think I’d almost struggle more with the responsibility of this little person inside of me seeing where it will sleep, once this part of my job is complete. Because no matter how ready we are furniture wise or money wise, this baby isn’t coming out until God tells it to… and we’ve got a long long time before that happens.
