You just love her.

Good morning. *yawn* (Isn't that baby room the cutest?)

Its 10:45am as I'm writing this. I finally woke around 10am this morning, its become a thing for me these days. Yes, the days of waking at 6:30 with the husband, raring to go and ready to take on the world, have sadly gone. Well, maybe not sadly. (I've forgotten how good it feels to sleep in!)

Let's be honest, this blog is about happy things. Beautiful milestones, great adventures, the love of my life, my mini monster of a puppy dog. So if I've been a bit absent, please forgive me. Like all parents tell us growing up: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

I will say this. I've been struggling. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm waiting to find the happy in this pregnancy. I WANT to be happy. Thankfully I have a handful of great friends that talk with me daily, carrying me through with words like "Its gets better, I promise." or "You'll be clear when you're out of your first trimester." I believe them, because I have to.

Unfortunately I also have "friends" that just love to feed me the negative. That, when I mention I finally got a good night's sleep they say "Enjoy it now cuz you'll never see that again!" Really? Or comments about losing your freedom forever. I mean, come on. So yeah, really holding on to those positive friends right now and my sweet SIL who tells me that your life changes for the good, that everything, EVERYTHING you go through is so worth it. And again, I believe that, because I have to.

My sweet, supportive and patient husband has been so good to me during this time. He tells me to sleep in and doesn't let me object, because he knows my guilt issues. Goes with me to the store to buy embarrassing medicinal items and laughs at me when I tell him it seems I'm buying items for an 80 year old man rather than a 31 year old pregnant woman.

He hasn't flinched when I, yet again, say that I don't want to cook. I know, ME? Not want to cook? Our fare has consisted of frozen foods, chicken salad and pizza as of late. He's taken over the laundry as well as the dishes, because I swear there's been a chemical spill underneath our kitchen sink. I've been told your sense of smell heightens, so I expected a few things. But not being able to walk in a certain area of my kitchen because the cleaning supplies under the cabinet are screaming at me? Didn't expect that.

The receptionist at our dentist office asked him the other day how I was doing. "Is she nauseous?" to which he replied Yes. "Is she moody yet?" to which he replied Yes. "You just love her," she told him. "You just love her." I cried when he told me the conversation, because really that's all we want at this point. Understanding and love. And carbs. Lots of carbs...

For a moment last night as I lay on my husband's chest in bed I felt really good. As in normal. He told me when I cry and express the things that worry my mind when I'm hurting the most really bother him, really upset him. I told him I feel as if I have nothing to talk about these days, that the sickness consumes me, and therefore brings negative thoughts. Which, of course, I have to purge or else they'll just sit and simmer. It feels better to purge them, make room for better thoughts.

I look at him and tell him just before he spoke I was thinking of baby names. He looks down and smiles, kisses me on the forehead. We both know there's good ahead and we can't wait for it.

So, I want to end this post on a good note. Today, I am 7 weeks, 2 days pregnant. The things we're looking forward to are:

Learning the sex of the baby.

Being able to hear the heartbeat.

Painting and designing the baby room.

Finally showing and having my husband lay his head on my buddha belly.

Happy Monday lovelies. *smooch* I want a cheeseburger.