I was away for the weekend, attending a conference which was exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be. It was a Cursillo conference - filled with people of great faith. Right now I need to be reminded that I, too, am a person of faith. This weekend did exactly that for me, and I'm feeling incredibly peaceful, healthy, happy and yes, hopeful.
I was just reading Julia's most recent blog entry in which she says, "Which, um, ok, but my third husband is not only going to be a pastry chef he is going to be one of these internet spouses I keep reading about who strongly believe that pregnancy is a mystical, awe-inspiring time of great pith and moment and who cannot do enough to nurture and support the radiant goddess they are blessed enough to call Partner, Lifemate, Friend during this magical arduous process".
This cracked me up but also made me reflect on just how grateful I am that HB is one of those internet spouses of which she speaks!
I came home from the conference to find that he had spent his entire weekend painting. Now you have to understand - HB and I are probably the most sloth like home owners in the world. We keep a clean house...a tidy house....but we don't do that paint/renovate/repair thing. At all. Seriously. We have duct taped up holes in the walls. And been fine with that.
But I had happened to mention that I'd like to get the small bathroom on the main floor painted. My wish apparently is his command these days. Not only was the wallpaper border stripped, the bathroom painted totally, and the trim painted a beautiful contrasting colour - he also bought an awesome new light fixture for above the mirror, installed a new sink to replace the old one that had icky holes in the porcelain, painted the front hall and the french doors, and replaced the rubber on the front steps.
Now he's picking out colours for the living room, and I'm dreaming of hardwood floors.
He has decided that I am not to lift my arms above my head, which pretty much rules out putting away or getting any dishes in our house since I'm a short little runt whose kitchen has high cupboards. I am not to vacuum, nor am I to carry anything of weight over 10 lbs. I am not to bend to retrieve laundry from the washer or dryer. The list goes on.
The clinic called on Friday. Our nuchal fold and early ultrasound will not take place until October 19th. That feels really far away. It's hard to believe that I'm really only 8 weeks pregnant. It feels like we have been trying to get our heads around this forever now, when in fact it's only been 4 weeks.
I am beginning to believe this will happen. Why else would HB be treating me like the "radiant goddess" of which Julia speaks?