Honeymoon, Baby!

Or rather, no honeymoon and a real baby.

So I got married to this wonderful man August 2, 2014.

Photo courtesy of Elegant Illusions Photography (click to visit their website)

And because he is oh so ornery, he broke not just one ribbon at our shower and reception, but five. FIVE.


He thought he was funny, y’know. But you see, there’s a wee bit of a problem here. I apparently am, like my mother, the human equivalent of a rabbit. You simply mention the word “baby” and there’s one on the way. The difference here is that my mother only broke one ribbon to amuse my dear grandmother, and I wasn’t born for three more years.

Well, fast-forwarding to August 30…


This happened. God apparently decided that we didn’t need to wait three years. Or three months. Nope. A convenient change in my cycle and here we are.

I told my coworker at the time that I blamed her for telling me this would happen.


Not that I mind at all. First off, let’s not talk about how sickeningly skinny I was at 6 weeks. Believe me, I’ve had enough people tell me. Note: it is just as bad to tell someone they are too skinny as it is to tell someone else they are too fat.

This pregnancy has been a wonderful thing for me so far. I’ve finally gained 30 pounds so far at 30 weeks, after three years of mysterious weight loss. I can eat without getting sick, after the morning sickness passed. (Also, the term “morning sickness” is a joke. I was sick ALL. DAY. LONG.) My depression and anxiety have subsided to manageable levels, virtually nonexistent most day. I’m actually excited about something, I have something to look forward too. And because so far everything has said that baby E is doing wonderfully, I’m not afraid to be excited.

Sometimes I’ve thought to myself, I actually don’t know where I’d be had everything in the last year not gone as it did. If I wasn’t married, still living at home, I think I might have literally gone insane. Don’t get me wrong, my family is great. I just get restless.

I live for new days.

I love having the responsibility of running my own life. I love seeing Michael walk in the door after work. I love our little one, who I can’t wait to meet. I love everything that has happened, and the opportunities that show up with every day.

Just over 60 days until this little one is here. I’m obsessed with looking at cloth diapers and onesies and bright little baby things. I can’t help but think this will be one of the most rewarding things I’ve done yet.


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