In our house, we say that pity parties are okay, as long as there’s an end time, and mine has come. My particular party has gone on way too long – it’s past curfew, my makeup is smudged, my hair is limp, my cute outfit is all wrinkled, and it’s just time to call it a night.
So I joyfully declare that this first trimester nausea nastiness and personal-and-professional-life-impeding fatigue of a pity party is OVER.
It doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel sick. I’ve just decided that it has to be okay. It has to be okay that my schedule is heavily modified for the time being – it has to be okay that I go to bed early, that I’m sticking close to home, and that some days I just don’t like food. Because the last thing I want to do is look back on this pregnancy and remember nothing but misery.
I’ve decided to give myself a break. And I hope everybody else will too. I promise that someday I will see you all again, looking perky with a baby on my hip (if you’re lucky I may have even washed my hair), and we will all forget about the mess I was for a few months in 2012-2013. In the meantime, I’m determined to find the fun in all this. After all, having a baby is an adventure – I’m just going to need some motion sickness bands on mine.
Okay, glad we got that out of the way. Time to start planning a new, more fun party. Like, my Gender Reveal Party on Saturday! Any guesses? I’ll tell you in the next blog what I think it is.