This week has kicked my butt, both emotionally and physically.

My hyperemesis, which had been pretty manageable the last few weeks, has really kicked it up the last few days.

I left my house yesterday with the intention of running errands at five different places. I barely made it to two before I had to go home.

A migraine forced me to lay down for the second half of the day…again. Annie brought me books to read but I couldn’t focus on the words. She was disappointed, but not as much as I was.

I push through as much as I can because I want these last weeks and days with only Annie to be special. I don’t want her memories of this time to be of me sick, unable to play or even handle being touched.

I tell myself she might not remember any of it, good or bad. But what if she does?

The baby flips and kicks in my stomach and I am constantly reminded that I am caring for him, too. At this point in my pregnancy with Madeline, I was in the hospital. As hard as it is to do the things with Annie, at least I am home with her. I am so lucky.

I am resigned to the fact that physically, I might not feel better until this baby arrives. I have to emotionally get on board with not always being able to do the things I want because of this. Forcing myself through things sometimes requires a few days to physically recover, which means missing other things. It’s not always worth it, even when the guilt eats me up.

Today, though, will be worth it: Annie has her very first dance recital. And even though she might not remember any of this in twenty years, I will. So I will keep trying to do what I can, trying to do my best, trying to be her best mom.

Nothing would ever keep me from watching this girl dance.

busting a move

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