I didn't worry a little bit. I've known that I'm pregnant for a week and a half, and I've felt great all day every day. So, I of course began to wonder if that meant something was wrong. I know every pregnancy is different, but I was experiencing none of the symptoms that I was experiencing at this point with Eva. Like any rational person, Travis told me I was crazy. But a part of me just longed for one aching boob just to tell me everything was going as it should.
But today my prayers seemed to be answered. I'm still feeling okay enough to get everything done, but there's definitely some soreness and fatigue. In fact, it's 5:30 p.m. and I'm pretty sure I could go to bed and sleep until my alarm goes off in the morning. And perhaps that's why God gave me the worry, so that with every wave of discomfort that washes over me will come a sigh of relief knowing that my body is churning things up just like it's supposed to.
These are the days where memories are made. These are the days I don't want to forget. The good days, the bad days, the mundane days -- I want them all.
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