So things haven't gone *quite* the way I had hoped when I found out I was pregnant. Having been through this before I decided that I was going to keep working out and eating well and try not to be a psycho-pregnant lady, like I was last time. And I WAS, last time. Every twinge, every cramp, every pull. I called the dr. So KNOWING IT ALL this time around, I was going to be better. Then RACH ((our local Army Post hospital)) told me that I didn't need to have prenatal care until I got to NC, even if that meant waiting until I was 20+ wks pregnant. That's right. I didn't NEED prenatal care. Scratched that right off the list. That left me with working out and eating properly. I could handle that right??
I was doing good until I started an intimate relationship with my couch.
Thank God for my husband. He has let it slide that I haven't cleaned house in almost five weeks, the fact that we have ten loads of laundry on our bedroom floor and the house hasn't been dusted or vacuumed properly in over a month. It doesn't even phase him. Or he's just smart enough to not say so. He's been helpful when I've been hugging a toilet all day. He lets me nap. And he hasn't complained once about the six meals of soup we've had in the last week. To top it off, this morning I came down stairs to this:
After I asked him what he did and if I was dying or something, he said, "Can't a guy just tell his wife he loves her?"
Indeed. I'm a lucky girl!