This picture was taken Thursday. I was 34 weeks and 6 days. I turned 35 weeks on Friday, so I barely squeezed it in. :) It was a rough week, though, so I figure I'm forgiven.
Oye. Where to begin? Friday I was struggling with depression. It was a great day; we even put up the tree and other Christmas decor. So fun! But I was still kind of fighting it in the back of my mind. Grr. Hate that. Then that night, Derek introduced me to a fun yet super mellow and relaxing video game (A World of Keflings), and I vegged. The glow of the Christmas lights... a relaxing game... far too many Andes mints... It was lovely. I felt happy and good. Unfortunately, I felt irresponsible as well. I didn't stop playing until about 3:30am and didn't sleep until about 4-4:30. Not smart. I know. It was just hard to let go of the happy feeling. And I tend to get obsessive.
I woke up around 7:30 the next morning. Nowhere near late enough, but I had a work training/conference to go to. So I got up and ready and took my half-delusional self to the conference. I was there for 4+ hours. Then I came home.
Sunday was a play-hooky kind if day. I was desperate for a down day. So I took one. And while I genuinely love church and hate that we missed it, it was a fantastic break. We later went over to Orrin and Christa's house for dinner (Yep, didn't even have to cook! Perfect day!) and had a fantastic time.
Unfortunately, my down day couldn't reverse time or boost my immune system adequately to recover. Because I'm pretty sure that in my sleep-deprived delerium, I caught a nasty bug.
On Monday night, James was up a ton with nightmares. I let him sleep in my bed for a while, but ultimately he was just up far too often. I realized later that he was likely not feeling well, which was not letting him sleep well and was causing this general state of unrest.
On Tuesday, he woke up saying his tummy hurt. "Hurt really bad, way more than usual." (Which broke my heart. His tummy usually hurts?! Really?) I thought it might be residual anxiety from the night before or just a scheme to stay home. But I figured that maybe he needed a down day too. And/or if there was something at school causing his tummy to "really hurt" then he should stay home for a day and enjoy the peace and comfort of home (I worry about his anxiety, mostly because he's far too much like me). Anyway, I listened to my intuition. And I'm glad I did. Because an hour or so later, he majorly puked all over the floor.
He was crazy sick. Like lie there and moan crazy sick. Huddle up in pain crazy sick. Lie on the bed saying nothing, looking at nothing, requiring nothing crazy sick. It is miserable to see your baby hurting. Turns out, it is even worse to be similarly hurting right along with him.
I starting feeling ill around lunch time. By the time Derek got home, I was miserable. Once evening came I was balled up in pain and desperately hurting. Stomach cramps and pregnancy do not mix well. It was seriously awful.
For the record: I never throw up. Like ever. I had food poisoning when we were first married, and I'm sure I puked on occasion as a kid. But besides that, I had a great streak going. Well, I broke that streak on Tuesday night. And I did so with a vengeance.
By 3:30am-ish, I could keep water down. (Being desperately thirsty was a side effect of all the nastiness, so this was a huge deal. I will never take water for granted again.) And on Wednesday, I could eat food, though nothing more serious than ramen.
Tuesday night, I decided to go to work. But about an hour in, I got really, really dizzy. I was genuinely worried that I would fall over. And I was terrified to drive home. I felt a little better by 9:30 and was able to drive home, just super carefully (the gusty, NM-ish winds didn't do me any favors; they kept the car rockin and me unsure of my stability). I could have cried from relief when I was safely home in bed. It's possible I did. I wouldn't be surprised. I do that a lot lately.
So yeah. That's what we've been up to lately. Our story as of late. Drawn out and miserable, but that's honestly how it felt, so it's an accurate portrayal. We'd hoped to get back to normal life by the end of the week, but Derek started barfing Thursday night. Oy vey! It was like the freakin plague around here! So we've quarantined ourselves for the rest of the weekend. No one else should have these germs! And apparently we're all (still!) recovering. Waa.
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