Yesterday seemed like any other Sunday. The typical back & forth game with the husband, taking care of the toddler girl while each of us try and get our showers and get ready for Church. In one moment, we're laying in bed with her just taking it easy, watching TV when I say something like "Isn't having one kid so easy? I'll miss this."
And then in another breath, as I'm running around Church wrangling said toddler, feeding her 394082390 packs of fruit snacks just to keep her quiet, and sitting on the floor with her putting together a Dora puzzle while getting pieces thrown at my head....I think, "How in the heck will I have two kids? ONE kid is hard."
Amazing how things can change so fast.
Nevertheless, this is not at all what this post was about.
Anyway. We get home from Church and I'm tired. Exhausted, really. No big deal, I mean, I'm pregnant and I'm exhausted 99.9% of the time. Not surprised. So as soon as I lay her down for a nap, I crawl into bed myself to take a little nap if my body will let me.
And then it hit me, like a ton of bricks. Mean, nasty, bricks.
Body aches. Chills. Stomach pains and sharpness. Vomiting.
For the next six hours I did a dance of laying in my bed in tears. Running back and forth to the toilet. Tossing & turning trying to get comfortable. And feeling like death. Seriously. I have never felt worse that I can remember.
Thankfully it was a Sunday, and my husband was home, kept Emeline out of the way, played with her, fed her, and still managed to get me all my 'text message' requests throughout the day, or read my whiny I think I'm dying texts and respond sweetly. Oh yea, and managed to clean the 2-day mess of a kitchen, too. (Thank you. Seriously. Love him.)
It was miserable though. I almost couldn't distinguish between pregnancy sick and sick-sick, but I've come to the conclusion that this was sick-sick. A random mix of things actually that no one needs details on. But enough that I feel like I was kicked in the abdomen multiple times and feeling quite sore today.
About six hours later I started to feel more normal again. Like I could eat something. Like I wasn't going to die. Like I could walk. Like I could go downstairs and see my little family.
Whatever that was? I don't want to see it again. Pregnancy Sick is not nice to me. Not at all. But whatever this was? Was WORSE. And I don't want to deal with that again. Please and thank you.
All that to say-I am even more behind on life, now.
Christmas decor is still up. STILL UP. Omg. I am that person. No laundry got done this weekend. My bedroom looks like a hospital patient lived here. The list goes on.
But at least I'm....better?
Oh life. You like to throw curveballs.
Well HA HA on me. But stop being such a butt, it's not nice.