Goodness Gracious, I have a Blog????

Hello blog.  :)

I am posting on you because I don't want to become one of those women whose facebook becomes a pregnancy discussion board.  I mean, people can choose to read my blog.  They'd have to block my newsfeed to avoid seeing my posts.  And you don't want that, do you?

Of course not.

Besides, there's people who actually WANT the details (Hi, Mom and Dad).  So now they can read if they want.  But they don't have to.  Plus, I get to keep a record of pregnancy, so that when that little bundle of joy is in my arms and my brain magically forgets about all the inconveniences of the past nine months, and I turn to Josh and say, "Awww, I just want 20 more of these," then I have a reminder that no, I actually don't want 20 more of those. That I might melt when I look into little Jiblet's eyes, but I really don't want to do this 20 times and ten or less will suffice.  And I don't want to do it with multiples, either.


So blog, I will try to not turn you into a pregnancy log, because the internet does not need to have access to whether my ankles are swelling or info on how difficult it is to sit up in the mornings.  But most likely pregnancy will come up frequently.  Sorry about that.

When I was talking to a dear friend, she asked me what I was learning lately.  I peered the morning sickness induced brain haze and found a recurring theme:

My utter, complete dependence on the good grace of others.

It's easy to appreciate the grace of God.  I mean, no matter how you try, He's perfect and you're not.  But humans are a little different.  They're imperfect, you're imperfect.  You show them grace, they show you grace.  It's really easy to take that for granted, or to take it as "I forgave you, so now you forgive me."

But I found myself in the throes of morning sickness, and therefore, etiquette and social norms went out the window.  My college roommate invited me to a party the first weekend after the morning sickness hit.  I had RSVP'd yes.  But then the day of, I simply couldn't go to a party where there would be food.  Which pretty much describes every party.  So I blew it off.

And then there was the time my boss showed a great act of kindness and ordered pizza for our whole office.  Now, normally I'm a supreme pizza kind of gal.  But onions have declared themselves as my mortal enemy, in any form.  And then one of my co-workers suggested that we get a Supreme pizza, and everyone else very quickly agreed.  I mean, I'm the only girl in an office of guys!  Supreme is the thing to get!

One of my co-workers must have looked at my face.  The face that was plainly conveying the thoughts in my head.  The thoughts that ran something along the line of, "Onions?  On pizza?  That's like the equivalent of bringing in roadkill to the office and dishing it up"  And that kind co-worker very graciously jumped in to suggest a different kind.  When the others said that no, they were absolutely sure that supreme was what they wanted, kind co-worker jerked his head in my direction to remind them of my "condition".

So that was the time when little Jiblet vetoed an entire office to get the kind of pizza he wanted.  Who says children don't have sin natures?

And the list goes on.  My boss brought in his daughter's homemade fudge, very proudly showing off her skills.  I politely took a piece, took a bite, and promptly exited the building.  How can I tell him she did a good job after that?  I didn't eat the dishes that my guests brought to Thanksgiving.  I left church to eat a snack because Jiblet was hungry and goodness knows won't wait for anything.  But that was actually an improvement - I actually went to church that week, despite the 40-minute car ride over the mountains.

And then there's Josh.  As he puts it, I have a different stomach every day.  What sounds great yesterday, and of which I made a week's worth of servings, suddenly becomes a monster in my fridge.  The first week of the sickness, I wanted potatoes.  So we bought a five pound bag of potatoes.  But three days later, I could no longer look at potatoes.  And what's worse, I could no longer wash the dishes of any meal that included potatoes.  So Josh's meals have been reduced to the food I can't look at.

So what I have learned in the last two months?  First, I learned that the first trimester is really awful, and I really hope that the morning sickness disappears completely soon (it's hard to imagine being able to eat anything, though!).  But more importantly, I am completely dependent on others to extend grace, no matter what manners or social customs I ignored.  To still be my friend, even if I leave the lunchroom when they bring in their food.  To still include me in their plans, even though I cancelled last minute the last time because of carsickness.  To be kind enough to overlook my social transgressions.

And that's grace.