Good with the bad.

Well, we've all survived Christmas. That's about all I have to say about that.

I am very happy to be back home. I actually slept last night, which I haven't really done since I left for Hometown. It was wonderful.

I don't have another doctors appointment until January 7, but I may end up going in before then. My back is catching with every move I make. It may be time to visit an orthopedic to see if they can do anything. I have 12 more weeks of having Boogie on board, and I need to be able to move without crying every time I move a muscle. Last night was brutal. It took Bob and I around 15 minutes to get me out of our bed. Tears were involved. It was rough. And then it took almost as long for me to lie back down. Horrendous.

I'm also having some issues with my stomach again. During Christmas, every time I ate any food or drank anything, I barfed. This isn't morning sickness; it's my gastroparesis flaring up. It's been interesting. Puking when your ribs and back hurt with every move is nearly unbearable.

I am so happy when I feel Boogie kick. However, that's about the only damn thing I enjoy about this pregnancy. It's been a long 7 months, and while I want him to stay in there and cook a little longer, I'm ready for him to be here for selfish reasons. I'm in pain and misery every day. But like I said, feeling him kick makes it worth it. And I know it'll be worth it when he gets here. I'm just ready to feel better!

Somedays you're the pigeon, somedays you're the statue.

Sometimes I need reminding of what I'm doing. A reminder of how awesome it will be in another 6 months. This morning was one of those times.

My sister in law sent me a cheesy, but much needed text this morning. It was a picture that said, "Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle."

This morning, I called in sick to work. For the last few days, my morning sickness has been a little crazy. It's just like mine and Bob's kid to do this... Kind of a- Hey mom, you're in your second trimester now, but boy are you going to get sicker by the day!

Today, after eating some ritz and going back to sleep, I woke up and took Hank outside. While downstairs, I needed to throw up. I went into our downstairs bathroom. While in there, Hank decided he'd also throw up all over our mudroom, in view of me, of course. So once I finished, I walked through and got some paper towels to clean it up. As I was cleaning it up, I got sick again. En route to the toilet, I slipped and fell in Hank's puke. And then I puked on the floor too. I banged up my knee and bent my not yet bendable big toe all the way back. So that left me sprawled out in mine and Hank's puke, with a hurt knee, and a throbbing toe. Crying. And still needed to barf. Again. Of course.

When I say this has been an awful morning, I mean it's been truly awful. Now please excuse me while I go puke again.