When I decided to write this book for you, I wasn't taking into account the fact that I'd be too sick and tired to form coherent sentences.
It's the day after Thanksgiving and I haven't be able to drag myself off the couch all afternoon.
Or evening.
Unless, of couse, you count the times I've stumbled to the table to eat something and then stumbled to the bathroom to immediately get rid of it.
I've got to hand it to you.
You've taken the whole "morning sickness" disorder and ripped the label to shreds.
"Morning?" you say. "Why in the world stop there?"
Little out-of-the-box thinker.
I'm sick after at least two meals a day with dinner being the worst offender.
Throwing up three sips of coffee and a piece of toast can't hold a candle to what it's like to heave up an entire filled-with-a-variety-of-flavors-and-WAY-chunky meal.
Boy, oh boy, are you lucky that, in addition to pregnancy hormones, I have fierce maternal love instincts as well.
I don't hold this against you.
But I'd be lying through my teeth if I didn't admit to counting the days (probably 13) until this wicked sickness dissipates a bit.
I've had my fair share of prego yuck in my day but NEVER like this.
Congrats on that, little fiver. You will be notorious in this family for making mommy the Vomit Queen.
Yay to you.
Daddy is picking up my major slack around here and to his credit, he makes every weird snack I ask for, even when he knows I'll probably throw it up as soon as I'm done with it.
He lets me sleep, lets me lounge on the couch watching crap tv for hours on end, with nary a complaint.
He's a good man. (And really, an even better daddy, if you can imagine that.)
Tomorrow, you are going to have to be on your best behavior as I need to get some Christmas shopping done.
You are seriously impeding my desire to even get dressed in the mornings so I'm really asking for a lot, I know, but...I need to be a functioning member of society just for a few hours.
I won't promise you KFC but maybe a milkshake--deal?
Loving you already, little Sick-Maker,
Mama
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A Gift Of Words, A Labor Of Love
About Me
- Angi
- I would like to dedicate these pages to my tiny little Grower, who is working so very hard, day and night, stitching together their "pieces of me." To my baby: It's my absolute honor to write your beginning, to give words to the journey that we embark upon together, in order to bring you to this world so that the other four can tickle you senseless. There is no bond stronger than mother and child, I firmly believe, and it is with that declaration that I, with a full heart and blossoming belly, begin our story...