The day will come when I am actually a consistent and contemplative writer again. I will pause thoughtfully before typing the first thought that comes in my head. I will write enlightening stories about the human spirit and the ways in which the divine and profane intersect in poignant exchanges. I will try to be worthy of my ordination. I will actually meditate.
But in the meantime...
That brief nausea reprieve mentioned in the last entry was just that. A brief reprieve. Damn you, morning sickness. Damn you.
All the pregnancy books say (and I quote from this morning's peppy advice in my daily pregnancy book), "Right around this week, your pregnancy sumptoms might have spontaneously disappeared. This typically--and thankfully for mothers who have experienced extreme morning sickness--happens at the end of the first trimester. For approximately the next three months, you should be feeling wonderful!" The operative word in the previous passage was the word might. And that jaunty exclamation point simply mocks me, me the woman who can now simultaneously vomit in a bag and drive.
So, now you all know why I'm not typing. And there's so much to say...the tale of the missing diamond ring, the madcap adventures of R. and I in Ann Arbor (a.k.a Nerds in Paradise), what it means to sleep with the enemy (and I don't mean R.), the three hour visit to the OB-GYN, the outcome of the Nutcracker auditions, choosing God-parents, new family traditions. Sigh. So much to say, but now I have to go throw up again. So, you'll just have to wait in breathless anticipation.
I'll be back soon.
The Contemplative Chaplain