Having children was always part of my life’s plan, my original number starting at twelve. By the time I got married God, in His mercy, had whittled that number down considerably.
With assumed control of my life, I got pregnant right on schedule. What I hadn’t scheduled was being sick all day, every day. They have a name for it now—it’s called Hyperemesis Gravidarum. I just called it puking out my guts. For the record, despite it all, I did keep eating, nibbling and sipping. When my weight reached 89 pounds, my doctor hospitalized me and had a psychiatrist come to see me.
Like I said, they didn’t have a name for this back then. The cure was to ‘stop being a baby’ when in reality, it was the baby that was causing the situation. It was a blessing to make it through nine months of pregnancy and end up having my first daughter two days early.
Thanks for that, Allison.
For the record, she was 7 lbs. 2 oz. And was more than worth any physical challenge she led me through.
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