Today was a good day.

As I get ready for bed, I reflect on my day. It's this habit I've had since, I don't know, birth, likely. Most days, like 98% of days, I go to bed happy. Approving. Satisfied, yet motivated. Eager for the new day. Most days were fun. Educational. Filled with joy from my boys. Today was no exception. In fact, today, theoretically, was more fun than usual. Today was the kind of day that usually, I write about to remember its perfection, fun, to shout to everyone, I love life!

Today, I finally got my teeth cleaned. I caught up with friends and hung out with their children as well as watched my own boys play, in Baby group. I went to lunch and a movie with my husband. On a weekday! My kids were fed, bathed and put to bed all in a relatively smooth manner and before 8pm. A recipe for a fun. Unique. Perfect day. Yet, I go to bed exhausted and drained. DREADING tomorrow. Just praying I can get through these next few weeks. Utterly overjoyed to lay my head on the pillow. Finally. Because, despite my wonderful day filled with fun involving all of my favorite people, all I really wanted to do all day is get back to bed. Or sit. Not move. Not eat. Not drink. Just lay.

The entire day was an act. A guise, so as to let the others around me continue enjoying their day. A tiring, disheartening, sad attempt at appearing normal, while internally feeling nothing but misery. Perhaps this sounds dramatic. Perhaps it is. But this is how I feel. 8 weeks pregnant. My once unbending, genuine love of the day, the opportunities it affords. My true positive attitude, and constant fire to seize the day. Do more. Do EVERYTHING. Has been extinguished and taken over by fatigue. Constant nausea and the never-ending question, am I going to vomit? Now, it's purely survival mode. With a little extra energy to try to keep a smile on my face.

I will love this munchkin with all of my heart when he's here. Really, I already do. The amazement, awe, wonder and excitement for participating in the creation of another human never fades. I have no ill feelings toward this child, whatsoever. And perhaps I was given this course in pregnancy, now for the fourth time, as a safeguard against having too many kids. Because, if pregnancy were easy, I might not be on just #4...goodnight.