Now in the middle of all of this fun-ness, my e-mail was hacked, my credit card was stolen and we had to put our dog, Zeus, down. Yea, because we needed more to deal with. Josh is still pretty sad about Zeus and the kids keep asking about him. We told them he had to go away, that he was sleeping outside and Rome even helped to bury him and plant a tree over him. They have short memories and still ask.
And here is the kicker. The one that really has me feeling sorry for myself. I got fat. Yes, I am pregnant and it comes with the territory. I get it. I try not to care, but when you go from 164 to 180 in a day...then 174 to 190. In. One. Day. That is not cool. What in the heck did I do? Sometimes it goes back down, but really it just makes me feel fat. F.A.T. I look at myself and try to see where it is going. My belly is actually measuring small. I don't think I look almost 200 lbs. But the more I think about it, and I still have four months to go, the more it makes me want to cry. I don't want to be 200 lbs! I don't want to gain 30 more! I don't want to look like a whale yet! I don't like feeling fat! My maternity clothes hardly even fit. It is just not fair.
The Ensign this month has been amazing. There is more than one article on the Atonement and Grace. Also, some wonderful pictures that I will be tearing out for my binder. Anyway, they really opened my eyes to what I was missing. I have all of this to deal with, but He can help. He can feel my pain, my exhaustion, my heartache. I just have to ask. I don't think I have ever had to ask for this kind of help before. I don't have to do it all. He must think I am pretty strong to be able to handle all of this at once. It makes me think what should I be learning from all this? Maybe I should stop feeling sorry for myself. And maybe I should hide my scale for a while. I think so.