I was so absorbed in my little "woe-is-me" tirade on Sunday that I neglected to mention the big, awesome news from last week. My brother is back from Iraq, safe and sound in the good ol' US of A. Of course I can't see the pipsqueak until he has time to drive up here in May. But he's back, and he'll be out of the Marines by the end of the week, maybe even done with Reservist duty. Big Sis is very happy. About that, anyway.
I actually had a somewhat normal morning, excluding the fact that it started at 4AM. But my stomach seemed almost pre-pregnancy stable. The "almost" reared its head when I tried to eat a nice bagel, egg & cheese sandwich Mark whipped up for me. The concept of such a breakfast sounded good when I asked Mark to make it for me. The concept started losing its appeal as soon as it was placed in front of me. I took a test bite and my stomach advised me that taking another bite would be most unwise. So Mark got a spiffy little breakfast instead. But at least there was no bucket hugging this morning. (And I've decided that the bucket's name is Earl Chunks.) And I also found a blog that made me realize things could be a lot worse. This poor woman. She seems to have the support network she needs to get through this, and she doesn't have to be anywhere for 40hours a week for that silly money stuff. But I had a brief glimpse of what she must be suffering on Saturday when I couldn't get anything to stay down until I finally passed out from exhaustion and gave my stomach time to sort itself out. If every day of the past 14 weeks had been like Saturday morning, I would be making appointments for a vasectomy and a tubal ligation the day after I delivered.
I'm so glad my body is behaving today. I was just so tired of it all last night that I cried for a good ten minutes. I needed today to be a good day. Who knows what kind of day tomorrow will be, but at least today is good. At the moment. :)