Today's post is brought to you by the letter "T," which is altogether appropriate since I am terribly disappointed with certain weather forecasters who predicted a 'significant snowfall' for southern KY this Sunday. Alas, while we were sleeping, those sly little rats stripped our forecast of it's bliss by removing the winter weather advisories and warnings. We are left only to wake up to a nasty rain/sleet event and being completely ignored by the oh-so-happy weather people, greedily reporting on Virginia, where there IS snow. Terrible.
With that said, I'll continue with a random post so neatly packaged with title alliteration.
It will be a blast (and certainly make up for the sight of green grass as I look out the window.)
We have entered week 14, people. I can't tell you how thrilled we are - I vividly remember the nauseated nights of weeks 7, 8, etc. when I longed to just be further along, not only with the hope of feeling better, but also with a little bit more security that things were progressing and we were in less 'danger.' As anticipated, around week 12, I did begin to feel somewhat better. Evidently I became spoiled to my new state of being because when I woke up Friday not feeling well at all, I was unprepared. And it only progressively got worse. I quickly had a talk with Baby, explaining that it was week 14 and we could stop this nonsense, but apparently we were working on growing a bone or something massive because Baby did not cooperate and I fell more and more ill as the day wore on. As I was sitting at my desk dividing my day's tasks into Must Get Done and The World Won't End if This Doesn't Get Done piles, a horrid scent wafted into my room. It didn't take me long to figure out what this vile odor was.
I have the nose of a blood hound anyway. (I can smell 1-day-bad milk when you open the refrigerator door, a talent I pride myself in.) Being pregnant has only served to intensify this to the point that Michael is convinced I am lacking in one of my other senses since my nose is so insanely keen. So when any smell that is even slightly pervasive to 'normal' people streaks by my nose, I'm usually drowning in it, gasping for fresh air.
This odor event was certainly as unwelcome as any. Already battling the Green Monster of nausea, I was not happy to recall that there was a fundraiser going on in our break room, in which a group of coworkers had decided they would have a taco bar for lunch in order to garner donations. That meant this wasn't a smell that was going to go away any time soon. Attempting to freshen the air would only make matters disgustingly worse. Shutting my door would trap and sour the odors that were already in the room. I was sunk. Figuring I only had my partial breakfast to lose, I broke down and took a Zofran, hoping to quell at least some of the nausea so I could withstand the smell. I wish I could say this little miracle pill came to my aid and I was able to enjoy the rest of my day, but it didn't. I struggled through a bland lunch, rested a little (away from the building and it's atrocious smell), and tiptoed through the rest of the afternoon just praying for 5 o'clock.
You can add tacos to the list of things I no longer eat.
Saturdays are always a welcome end to the week, especially so since I've been pregnant. Our DVR gets a pretty good work-out throughout the week and since staying awake past 8:30 is quite a feat, we often don't get to watch many shows until the weekend. So in true Saturday fashion, I was watching the previous night's Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta episode. (I will only watch SYTTD Atlanta because it's southern and usually much more entertaining than it's northern counterpart.) Anyway, there is always a sweet or sassy storyline that comes with each bride. In this episode, there was a bride named Hope who was getting married in a month and was on a tight budget. We learned in her intro that her fiancé had just been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease. Heartbreaking, to say the least. The show progressed and she revealed that she had wanted a beach wedding, but was settling for an outdoor wedding due to the timeframe, yet she still wanted a beach-inspired dress. With only a few options, she tried on a couple of dresses that were nice, but just not the one. Then the boutique's owner, Lori, brought in a dress that was perfect. Hope loved it, and after some persuading, her family couldn't deny how happy this dress made her and loved it too. Then came the issue of price. Turns out, the dress was half-off, but was still double her budget. At that moment, Lori revealed that she was going to give her the dress. For free.
I lost it. I cried right along with her family that had come with her to choose a dress. How precious to give such a gift to this girl who is providing so much hope to someone diagnosed with a fatal disease. Just when I had gotten myself together to watch the rest of the show, they showed a portion of Hope's wedding (where she looked like an angel) and the vows between her and her ailing love. I was a mess all over again. God bless that sweet couple.
And finally, I'm at least a month or so past due for making a post about my admiration for Tim Tebow. I am currently reading his book, which reads like a you're having a conversation with him, primarily about football and it's great. This guy is really unbelievable. Above all the hype of Tebow-ing and the scrutiny he's been under for winning or not, he's truly someone to admire. He has a work ethic that is unrivaled. He has spent all of his athletic career battling for the quarterback position because of his build ("he's built like a linebacker or running back, not a quarterback"), and his NFL career is proving to be no different. But most interesting to me is the story about how he came into this world.
He is the baby of five Tebow children. His father started praying for him, by name, before he was even conceived. His mother struggled through a horrible pregnancy in which doctors told her early on that due to her symptoms, it would have been best to abort the pregnancy. Knowing that was not an option, his family stuck it out and endured the trials of 9 long months. He was delivered a healthy baby, along with a blood clot as large as he was. He and his mother scientifically should not have survived the pregnancy, and the doctors appropriately called him a miracle baby. He now spends every day of his life living out the prayers his dad prayed before he was even thought of.
And the best part? Tim's birthday is August 14th. My current due date is August 16th. I know the likelihood of first babies coming early is slim to none, but it might be nice. Just a thought.
I must thank everyone for the kind comments, messages, Facebook posts, and cards celebrating our news. It is so exciting now that people know and can join in the joy with us! Thank you, and thank you for your continued prayers!
Now I'm going to pretend there is a soft blanket of beautiful white snow on the ground, make something warm and tasty, and enjoy my fake snow day. I hope you do too!
3 days ago