I tell myself something of that sort daily. I.must.keep.going. Most days I can't seem to function as a normal human being. Although, some days are really good. I won't (try to) complain though. My body is doing things it has never, ever done on it's own. I do my best to remember this. There is a miracle in my body!
I remember feeling this way when I was pregnant with B, except I was also taking progesterone. My body is just acting pregnant because, well, it's suppose too! The only difference is this: I have a toddler now. So, really I get out of bed in the morning because I know that there is an incredibly precious little boy who needs a momma. I eat small meals. I accidentally fall asleep while we are watching Elmo. We watch too much Elmo. We go for walks. We sometimes drive to get an iced tea or diet coke. We read books. We (I) don't make sudden moves. We survive.
My sweet boy, who has not ever been that good of a sleeper, has been sleeping like a champ lately. Sleeping in, long naps. Truly a miracle, one might say. No, no, friends, this is the hand of God. This is His kindness. I'm never more humbled than when God brings me into a place, whether good or bad, and delights in me and provides for me and teaches me. All the while, I don't deserve a thing. Little things, God things, this is what keeps me going.
I feel like I should be at least 20 weeks pregnant by now. Alas, I am just 8 and a little. Eight! I'll consider it a success because that's two months down. I have a terribly, wonderful little baby bump that is noticeable in the evenings, especially, or after large meals. That can't be. I should just tell people I'm pregnant with twins to ease my troubled mind :) Maybe not. Okay, I will not.