and i am awake and blogging. i am also clinging to a mug of ginger ale for dear life.
it is at times like this when my moments of poetic depth fly far, far away, and i am left with nothing but awkward ramblings and passionate pleas toward Heaven to keep from fleeing once again to the bathroom.
this baby is already driving me to my knees, for more than one reason. i never have felt so close to Christ as when i am clutching the bowl of the toilet, whispering please oh please Jesus, please as my stomach twists.
i am so humbled by this phase, this time of being pushed from my place of self-maintenance to that of needing so much help and so much rest, even to hold back my own hair.
and so i sit here in front of my computer at a quarter to tomorrow and i write. and i read blogs like this one where i can feel so much less afraid and maybe i can do this after all.
i am wracked with so much nausea that i can barely stand it, and even the effort of standing and heading to my bed is almost too much. but i'm okay, because i can blog and i can read and i can sip my ginger ale.
and i can watch bones and once upon a time and remember that i am a writer, though a pregnant one.
it lets me feel normal, moment by moment.
even at quarter til tomorrow.