So, for the past several months I've been completely AWOL from the whole blogging thing. What, you might wonder, could I possibly have been doing with myself all that time? Well, let me tell you...
First and foremost, I've been homeschooling the kids. Despite some people's beliefs that I'm completely inadequate for the job, I insist on persisting with it. Frankly, I don't think the girls would let me quit if I wanted to. They enjoy it too much. (And so do I!)
We actually went on a week-long vacation for the first time in years. It was an awesome time, and I only hope we get to do something like that again while all the kids are still young enough to enjoy spending an entire week with us parental units. (Bonus portion of the trip...my sister and her husband joined us for two days before continuing on to Washington D.C. for their own vacation. After not being able to visit for two years, I can't tell you how good it was to see her again.)
And then, there's the weight-loss thing.
For months, I faithfully exercised, working my way from forty minutes a day, five times a week to sixty minutes a day, five to six days a week. My weight slowly (to me) but steadily went down, and my clothes got so loose I could pull my jeans off and on without undoing the zipper.
But a funny thing happened in October. My period was late. By a whole week. And for me, who's always been as regular as clockwork, it could only mean one thing. I must be pregnant, right?
I took a test, it came out negative, and the next day my period came just like it was supposed to, albeit seven days later than it should've.
I was devastated.
For three short minutes, I entertained the idea that I might be pregnant again. When I found out I wasn't, I almost couldn't believe how disappointed I was. Suddenly, the idea that my biological clock really is winding down hit me like a sledgehammer. Menopause. Change of life. No more monthly cycles.
No more babies.
I tried not to worry about it. I really did. But then November came, and once again my period was late.
Well, that was it as far as I was concerned. I was entering menopause. It was the beginning of the end. Never again would I have the joy of feeling a precious new life growing inside me. Never again would I be able to turn to my husband and randomly say, "Oh, by the way, we're having a baby." Gone were my hopes to give Benjamin a younger brother to play with, and Sarah would forever be the baby of the family.
Just to drive the point home, I bought another pregnancy test. This time, I got one of those digital ones that show the words "pregnant" or "not pregnant". No guessing at the lines for me. I wanted it spelled out in black and white.
It said, "pregnant". I've never been more happy to be wrong in my life.
Since then, I've dealt with some of the worst nausea I've ever had. It hasn't been morning sickness. It's been morning, noon and night sickness. But that's finally coming to an end now, and I'm getting back to my normal self. Well, as normal as I can be while pregnant.
Eric, of course, is thrilled. The girls were surprised when we told them, naturally, but are very excited to have another baby joining us soon. Even my mother-in-law congratulated me this time.
So, my weight-loss is on hold until after the baby comes. Thank goodness I not only have baby clothes for either sex, I still have my maternity clothes, too.
And once a day, I can turn to my husband and randomly say, "Guess what? We're having a baby."