Man makes plans, and God laughs.
I was pregnant. It wasn’t exactly a surprise. We meant to do it, and had talked and planned for a long time.
When we were talking and planning, I thought being pregnant would mean I’d slowly get larger and then be sorta clumsy and slow. Maybe during the first bit, I might be morning sick.
When I acutally was pregnant, at first it meant my feet hurt—like the many little bones in my feet might pop out of their perfect jigsaw puzzle fit with each other and I’d have to limp and say ‘ow! Ow!’ to move to where I needed to go.
And then it meant I was RAVENOUSLY hungry. Like, I had to eat, and I couldn’t eat fast enough. When I finished eating something, enough to make my stomach extremely full, I would feel a drop of strength that left me so weak I had to lean my whole body against the nearest wall. My head would loll against the wall and I’d shut my eyes to let them roll back. It took too much energy to see things, and the only solution I knew was to get food in my body now—NOW—so I could stay upright and conscious.
Soon the hungry turned into just tired. That lean-against-the-wall, the air-is-as-thick-as-cake-batter-can’t-move-through-it sort of tired.
But we had an adventure planned!
Chris said “Maybe we should cancel our trip.”