We went to visit D's family this last weekend in Wisconsin and flew home Monday. It was a nice visit although I realized that I am still not a kid person. I'm not always like, "look how cute" at every little thing they do. I don't want to help change diapers or always play games with them. I'm hoping that something inside of me will change when he is my own.
On another note, the plane ride Monday was a fiasco. I was sitting there and this girl behind me talked the entire time and she had the most annoying voice and Midwestern accent. Somehow she started telling the random guy next to her that she had a friend who got married when she was 19 and wanted to have kids right away. Well 3 years later they haven't been able to get pregnant and want to start fertility treatments. The girl behind me said, "So I was like, slow down! You are living life in the fast lane! You will get pregnant when you are supposed to get pregnant. If you do fertility treatments you'll have like 6 kids at once."
It took a lot for me to stay facing forward and not tell this girl how fertility treatments work. Or how hard it is to want for nothing more in life than to be pregnant and one day be a mother, but that isn't happening. It reminded me of that painful reminder I would get every month that felt like Mother Nature was laughing at me. I realized (again) that unless you go through IF, you have no clue what it's like. I think it is that way with most traumatic experiences. I know she wasn't trying to be mean or anything, but why is it any of her business how/when her young friend becomes a mother? I was 22 when we started ttc. It was the longest 3 years of my life but as I look down and feel him kick right now, I realize that it was all worth it. He is worth waiting for.
To add injury to insult, the plane ride sucked. It was supposed to be just over 2 hours and that turned into 3. There was a really bad storm in Dallas so when we were going down for the landing, it got really bumpy. So bumpy that my motion sickness combined with my morning sickness was not going to end well. I started feeling my mouth water which always happened when I would throw up earlier in the pregnancy. I hadn't thrown up in quite a while but I felt it coming. I got the doggie bag ready and barfed my brains out, in my seat for the entire plane to see/hear. I was mortified, so I started crying and I thought "I could die right here on this plane". Luckily I have the best husband in the world and he called the flight attendants over and asked for some water and napkins. The stupid guy brings a tiny cup of water and like 5 napkins and tries handing it to me while I'm still puking! Hello! Where do you expect me to put that? Idiot. So I finally finish the show and fold up the bag and D puts it on the floor by his feet. The people around me were so nice and gave me these disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer. The female flight attendant brought me a water bottle, a cold beer to put on the back of my neck and a couple plastic bags. Well, as D lifted the doggie bag to put into the plastic bag, it apparently had been leaking! It got all over him and the floor. It was so disgusting. So we were trying to clean up and I just felt horrible. I felt a little better but still sick, I was just embarrassed beyond belief (although playing the pregnancy card automatically makes people more compassionate to you), and then teh worst happened. Instead of landing, the airport closed so we had to circle around for 45 minutes before we could land again! My poor husband was sitting there in my vomit, quite literally for another hour. I can't believe he didn't puke himself because I would have.
It was quite the adventure and I am so glad to be home with my husband, my dog, and my baby.
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