I can hardly believe it's been two weeks today since my wife peed on a stick, and our lives changed forever.
Since then, she's been sick, tired, and sick some more. She has turned out to be one of the lucky ones that gets to suffer miserably pretty much all the time while pregnant. I watch from the sidelines, wishing I could do anything to make her feel better; and realizing there is really little I can do, besides being as patient, understanding and loving as I can.
For those that don't know me personally, that's a tough list indeed!
This all means we have had zero moments to actually enjoy the fact that we are expecting. Privately, I can browse the internet for infant related items (blueprints for the cradle I keep wistfully saying I plan to build), and think about what it all means with a certain amount of giddiness. Then I see her clutching one body part or another in pain as she struggles to keep from vomiting (the title morning sickness is a cruel, cruel joke!) and that seemingly remote future vanishes in a cloud of empathy. I hate seeing her go through this, but at the same time I'm rather excited; it's a tough place to be, and we have a long, long ways to go.
But it's the weekend, and we both will have the chance to catch up on sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will see us in a happier place, and maybe we can have a chance to stop and think about the future in a positive light; I'm thinking a stop by Babies R Us might be fun. And likey she'll want a baked potatoe with the works for dinner. Again. And I'm cool with that.
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