In which I decide to stop making excuses about my lack of bloggery.

The more I think about this, the more I think there's no good reason for keeping it off the blog. I'm currently blogging fairly incognito-ly, which is to say that I don't think anyone I know "in real life" is reading.

I'm 7.2 weeks pregnant (or so... I don't yet have a due date), and thank the good Lord for his blessings. I only had to undergo two rounds of Clomid to conceive this time, and that is a wonderful, miraculous thing. I am overjoyed, truly.

However.

Oh, however.

For the second time in two pregnancies, I am dealing with the scourge that is hyperemesis gravidarum (HG).

You guys. It is the WORST. If you gave me the choice between a) delivering a full-term baby every six weeks for nine months and b) HG, I would unhesitatingly, unblinkingly choose to a) give birth all of those times.

I can only imagine what morning sickness is like. I have only ever had morning-noon-and-night, unrelenting misery, not mere morning sickness. It was in some ways easier with my first pregnancy: my responsibilities were fewer (read: I didn't have a toddler), and thus if need be I could sacrifice whole weekends to just sitting around trying to curb the nausea and vomiting; plus, I had some naïve  hope that it would only last for the first trimester. On the other hand, this time my husband knows what to expect and that is immensely helpful.

He has been a rock star. I mean that with the utmost sincerity. He rearranged his work schedule so he can handle both the morning daycare drop off and the evening pickup, he's been doing all of the baby's baths and most of the meals (picking them up from restaurants, that is, because I could cook but only if they want me to actually vomit in their meals).

I don't know how to even describe the magnitude of the disruption to our lives. But when Mama literally can't do anything without retching, life changes. A lot.

The best part of my day is the time between dinner and Keira's bedtime because I sit on the couch while she runs around being funny and distracting me from the horror show happening in my stomach.

Please say some prayers for me that this time the HG doesn't last every moment of my pregnancy, as it did with Keira. St. Gerard has been getting an earful from me already, but I would appreciate a few more intercessors!