We're all so excited to have a new little one joining our crazy family in September. This part of our story started on January 9 when I took a pregnancy test, thought it was negative, and threw it in the trash. A few days later, I took another test, it was blazing positive so I took the other one out of the trash and it turns out there really was a faint line. I don't think those four days would have been much different had I waited a few more minutes and seen the positive result, but my mind certainly would have been occupied by a variety of different things.
While I haven't tossed my cookies as frequently with this one as with Emma, I've definitely been very nauseous, and when you're sick at a level 7 versus a level 9 on a 1-10 scale you still can't really do much. Fortunately, I married well, and Dan has gone above and beyond in taking care of Emma, laundry, dishes, and our little animal farm (4 chickens, 3 dogs, 2 bunnies, and 1 toddler).
I'm just past 14 weeks, but I'm still feeling sick and anticipating some relief in the next week or two. I'm pretty sure that Dan is just as excited as I am at the prospect of my nausea passing (maybe even more excited). He's a trooper.
Emma can't even stand that I have a baby in my tummy. When we told her, her eyes got so wide and she asked if she could touch my tummy, then she proceeded to tickle the baby through my tummy. She always reminds me not to crunch the baby when I sit down, and I already see a sweet protective, big-sister heart growing in her.
So, that's the story morning glory.
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