Gladness of Heart

We are very excited about Baby Boswell. We are so thankful that he/she is healthy and truckin' along as he/she should so far. We're going to be even more excited when he/she makes the grand appearance in 2013. 

I have to say, though, that this pregnancy has been nothing short of miserable for me (and probably Brad, too, based on how often I cry now). I realize this is not unusual. My whole life I've heard about the various and sundry side effects of pregnancy, but I never really thought about them in reference to myself. Probably wise. I have an overactive imagination. Just ask Brad. He'll roll his eyes.

Around the time we found out we were expecting, I was dealing with the fatigue. Sooo tired. At first, I thought it was from all of the prep we were doing for our move. The fatigue is still actually going pretty strong to this day (15 weeks). Honestly, seeing as how I'm not working and can sleep when I need to, I don't mind this symptom too much. 

I'm not a fan of the insomnia, though. I have a sleep disorder that I've been medicated for for years, but obviously I can't take it now. So, it takes me around two hours to fall asleep and then I wake up about every 30 minutes after that. Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't imagine that waking up every two hours with newborn will be too much more horrible than my current habit of every half hour.

Right before we moved to Boston, Brad and I were able to spend a week at the beach with his family, and the nausea started that week. I'm pretty sure that I will NEVER be able to eat shrimp ever again. I gag just thinking about it. In fact, it's such a severe aversion that during the Olympics, I'd have to look away when the divers were diving in the pike position and kind of looked like shrimp. I've got to stop writing about it...

The nausea has only gotten worse since then. For the past ten weeks, I've been on the verge of being sick for just about every waking (and non-waking) moment of every day. I go through phases of being actively sick for days on end, but the nausea never dissipates. I dream about being sick and wake up sick. I spend about 70% of my time on the couch, sucking on lemon drops, drinking lemonade, and willing my stomach to calm down. 

Quite possibly the worst part, though, are the headaches. I've gotten migraines since I was 16. I've become very adept at dealing with them through the years; if I catch them early enough and take my medicine, I can usually stop them before I'm rendered useless and bedridden. Of course, I had to stop taking my migraine medicine once I found out I was pregnant. I just hoped that I wouldn't have any migraines. I went for quite a few weeks without one, which was lovely. Then, a weather front came through Boston and nearly killed me. My migraine raged and raged, and all I could take was 2 Tylenol (if you get migraines, I can just hear you scoffing at what 2 Tylenol can do against a migraine). I was sick repeatedly, my head split open for hours on end. It was terrifying and exhausting, and the dramatic side of me was convinced I wouldn't make it until morning.

My doctor was very sympathetic and called in something that's a little stronger and still safe for little babies, which was comforting. Unfortunately, the next few times I needed it, I couldn't keep it down long enough to do anything useful. The past two weeks have been torturous; I've had a constant sinus headache that has morphed into a migraine twice. I've cried buckets out of hopelessness (which, by the way, makes the migraines so much worse) and prayed frantic, incoherent prayers for relief.

And I've felt very sorry for myself. Which made me feel guilty. Which made me cry more. It's a vicious cycle. I realize my life could be so much worse: I could be a single mom with little support. I could live in a country where I'm expected to work in the fields. Goodness, I could have a job here. I could have a husband who isn't patient and kind.

Even with all of that in mind, I've struggled a lot with weariness and discouragement and occasionally, a despair of sorts. I've done almost nothing in my new city, and I've met almost no one. I've been to church only one time. It's been a dark season, to say the least. I'm not sure that I've handled it all that well, either.

This morning, I was doing my Bible study, and I ran across a verse that I've never really paid attention to before, Ecclesiastes 5:20. The passage is talking about wealth, but it held a promise for me in this season of my life:

"He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart."

I have to confess that it hasn't helped me a whole lot to hear people saying that when I'm holding my baby in March, I won't even remember the struggles of pregnancy. That's a long ways away, and my current physical state is very real and horrible. However, I can trust- here and now- that He will keep me occupied with gladness of heart. That's my prayer.

Now, of course my other prayer is that I'll remember that I'm supposed to be praying for gladness of heart, even when I feel my sickest... :)