I'm trying to take it one day at a time, moment to moment, knowing that this is temporary...as in finished along with the first trimester (hopefully!). If this pregnancy follows the pattern of the other three, in only four-and-a-half more weeks, I'll start to feel like myself again; although right now, that feels about as out-of-reach as the moon.
The one thing I keep reminding myself is that this will all be worth it in the end. I've never looked at any of my biological children and thought, "Man, all that sickness and that restless sleep, having to go to the bathroom eighteen times each night, gaining all that weight that I worked so hard to take off, back pains and swollen ankles and then hours of agonizing labor...and this is what I got?!"
Nope, they placed my baby in my arms, I fell instantly in love,
and none of it ever crossed my mind again.
And I'm sure it will be the same this time.
Hanging onto that promise right now, and also to the thought of the tiny human being God is knitting together inside my body.
The miracle of it all never ceases to amaze me.
Yesterday marked our littlest peanut's seventh week of life (from conception: I'm technically nine weeks pregnant out of forty, the way they figure it). In honor of this milestone, I did a little research (found here):
Nothing but the hand of God could perform such wonders.
And if being sick and uncomfortable is the role I have to play for the privilege of being part of this miracle, then I will gladly endure it the best I can.
I just really hope the next four-and-a-half weeks fly by!
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.