Life. Changing.

It's Friday night. This is what I am doing. I am sitting on my couch, where I have been all day, watching a Dane Cook comedy special and trying really, really, really hard not to throw up. And the feeling like I need to throw up has nothing to do with the fact that I am watching a Dane Cook comedy special. Mind you, it is also my birthday weekend.

So how did this happen? How did I wind up as such a loser? Well, it all started a few months ago, when I started having unprotected sex with my husband. You guessed it. My husband has given me that ever-so-common sexually transmitted disease commonly known as pregnancy.

In spite of how sick I am, I really am ecstatically happy about it. It's just hard to show it with one's head in the toilet.

I think that even though I am sick as a dog, it has not quite sunk in yet with me that this is for real. Instead, it is as if I have a tiny hope, burning inside like a little flame. Every so often, it comes shining through, like when I look at my office and imagine what it will look like as a nursery, or when I watch those cheesy shows on Discovery Health and cry EVERY. TIME. they hand that sweet newborn to its mother for the first time. I know that tiny flame will be fanned to full life on Monday, when I go to the doctor and hear our itty baby's heartbeat for the first time. I really and truly can't wait for that moment.

I just hope the doctor writes me a scrip for some nausea meds while I am there.