Two pink lines...

Two pink lines.

They mean so much.

In my case they spelt out ten weeks of constant nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite and an overwhelming sense of feeling sorry for myself.

Yes, I am pregnant!

It was with palpable excitement in early April that I lay in bed and watched the look of pure joy on my husbands face as I told him of our great news.

To be completely and utterly honest, until now, that was the ONLY time I have been excited during these last three months.

Being sick sure does know how to impede a party.

It hit me hard. I found myself buried under a sea of blankets as I tried not to move, lest the little that I managed to eat during dinner found its way out again.

I couldn’t write posts for my blog. I couldn’t enjoy anyone else’s. My son suffered, as I couldn’t give him the best of me.

I was so tired. Like a bear hibernating for the winter, I wanted to close my eyes and wake up smiling, already in my second trimester.

I kept telling myself to be grateful. Miscarriage is such a common occurrence that I should count my lucky stars all was going well. Feeling sick was a good sign, surely?

Hello in there!

Again, like my first pregnancy, almost overnight, nausea and exhaustion were replaced with nursery decorating ideas and a desire to spring clean. Names are now circulating through the recesses of my head and I’m starting to enjoy my swollen belly as it ceases hiding its secret within.

Due on the 27^th December, my fingers are crossed that we’ll have a bigger family and be home in time for Christmas.

What a precious gift!