Ever since my Doctor's Visit Renn has been waking up every morning and excitedly asking me, "Is today the day?" He's asking, of course whether we arrived at the day when the awful sickie fairy mysteriously departs and order and harmony return to our lives. Well, today is (again) not the day. I woke up thinking maybe, just maybe, but by the time I was frantically trying to dry my hair, I was so nauseous that I had to sit down literally every 45 seconds and on about my 5th trip back up to the mirror I lost it - vitamins and all.
By the time I got to work I was feeling so hypoglycemic that I was not above stealing food. I snatched someone's 1/2 a cinnamon roll (there was a whole box of them out for another department) and then I feverishly stuffed my face. No shame. BUT it has since stayed down, and I'm certain that if the person who sacrificed their 1/2 a cinnamon roll knew what a worthy cause it went to, they wouldn't mind. Come on body, adjust to the silly hormones and function!
Happy thought - the basement is all carpeted and we've started moving. I'm determined to take it nice and slow and easy. We have the rest of the month to move and I see no reason to rush. I want to be able to find things when I finish unpacking in Philadelphia a year from now. It sounds like Renn is planning on moving most of our things to Pennsylvania before the baby is born, then fly back in time to be there when it is born, then fly back in time for school. And I will follow with a newborn, by my lonesome, some time later. It all sounds harrowingly awful and uncomfortable and nightmarish to me, but I asked for this, I prayed fervently for both of the factors which are going to combine to make a nightmare. So outside of this little blog, I dare not complain. But I don't think anyone would envy that particular set of circumstances, at least in a short-term-vision way, would they?
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