The Ugly Truth

You've heard the stories. They all begin with a beautiful tale about a young girl with exceptional potential and a bright future ahead. Then the story turns tragic and something terrible happens. She might have been a dancer or a runner or something along those lines, and then in the form of a car accident or some mysterious disease, she ends up losing both her legs. It's terrible. I cry every time. But the amazing thing is her attitude after it all. Somehow, she remains upbeat and positive in the face of adversity. She doesn't whine or complain. She doesn't turn bitter or blame anyone else. She rises above and becomes the shining example of how we should all be when faced with terrible hardships. And every time I hear a story like this I try to remind myself of how grateful I should be that I'm healthy and whole and truly blessed to have lived such a wonderful and (relatively) pain-free existence.

And then... I go and get myself pregnant. And once again, I have to face the ugly truth that I am NOT one of those girls. A couple of weeks ago pregnancy hit with a vengeance and I have not exactly been that shining example of how to overcome adversity with grace and style. Trust me, people, it hasn't been pretty. For those of you reading this who have gone through pregnancy without all the nausea and vomiting, I just want you to know that I forgive you. No, I'm only kidding, but seriously... why me? Can I just get that out of my system? I know, I know, it could be soooo much worse, and perhaps I should just hold off blogging until after I hit that magical week 16 (most people get over the morning sickness by week 12, by the way) because I worry that all of you will have to put up with nauseating amounts of complaining, but that's only fair right? If I have to be nauseated, I really think that everyone else should be too! Okay, I'm only kidding again... kind of. Oh, and that reminds me, who ever came up with the term "morning sickness?" A man, probably. Every time someone uses that term it just kills me. Morning? Really? What would I give for just morning sickness. Oh no, if I'm alive and breathing, then I'm sick.

Alright, I'm done. Thanks for putting up with that. I'll try to keep the complaints to a minimum from here on out. So here's the juice on the past couple of weeks. It's been kinda crazy. We had a little scare when I started spotting and they brought me in to do an ultrasound. Everything turned out okay. I'll spare you all the details but we saw the heartbeat and everything is fine. I had my first OB appointment a couple of days ago and I'm about 8 weeks along. My due date is July 23, and you'll all be proud to know that I didn't deck the nurse when she said that my "morning sickness" was a good thing. She said "a sick mommy is a healthy baby!!!" in a tone of voice that would have made me vomit even if I wasn't pregnant. The good news is that I love my doctor and, although I came prepared to beg, he happily handed over that magical prescription for Zofran. My maternity insurance doesn't kick in for another week or two, so I can't fill it yet (a 20 day supply costs about $400 without the insurance), but hopefully my posts will take on a much happier tone soon. My little friend, Zofran, has magical powers and can effectively take the edge off of that "morning sickness" I've come to love so much. Sometimes, when I'm feeling especially bad, I like to just hold the prescription in my hand and pretend that it's a pill bottle filled with lots of my little friends all arguing over who gets to be eaten first. How's that for insight into my soul?

Okay, enough of that. Wanna hear some good news? Rick has officially been offered a position with the FAA. Yep, a big packet came in the mail with all sorts of paperwork and instructions that will inevitably lead to another 3-6 months of waiting. They call it a tentative offer, which becomes firm after he passes extensive medical, security, and background checks. Unfortunately, this big packet contained no information about dates or what to expect in the future. That only comes after they scour our lives for anything illegal or generally unacceptable. Rick has been frantically filling out paperwork, peeing in little cups, and getting EKG's for the past week or so. They gave him a deadline of 10 days to complete just about everything and once again, we find ourselves wondering why they ask us to HURRY so dang much when they move at roughly the rate of cold molasses. Meanwhile, I continue to dwell in the land of denial, and thoughts of how this is going to play out are effectively set aside.

Well, that's about it for now. Hopefully the next time I write I'll be feeling much better, whether induced by drug or God's pity, it matters not. I hope everyone out there is having a super fantastic Christmas Season!