Dear Tootie,

we're still in the navel orange stage, but since today is the last day of week 15, you should be getting a new fruit tomorrow. I won't spoil the surprise, but I will tell you that your next fruit is one of my favorites!

Oh, Tootie, Tootie, Tootie... you have given me a fair bit of discomfort so far. Here is just a partial list of the ills you have been responsible for:

- nausea
- fatigue
- lack of appetite
- throwing up in public, in front of a coworker (didn't see him until I was finished yakking)
- crazy dreams (I kinda like that one)
- heartburn
- nasal congestion, which is impervious to Vick's, a humidifier, Sudafed, and Breathe Rite nasal strips
- cramps
- dizziness
- headaches
- even worse moodiness than usual


But this recent one takes the cake. Thursday evening, my lower back started hurting terribly, and it just got worse throughout the weekend. I spent the entire weekend (including Friday, when I called in sick to work because I was in so much pain) on the couch or the bed. I watched 30 episodes of "The X Files" on Netflix. (The truth is out there, Tootie. Don't let anybody tell you different). When I stand up from sitting, I wind up just hobbling, hunched over. And the only pain reliever I can take is Tylenol, which I'm 93% certain is actually a well-marketed placebo. I wake up in the middle of the night, aching, and have to just flip over and try it again on the other side. It sucks, Tootie. It really, really sucks.

So I caught myself indulging in some self pity today. I was scribbling on my doodle pad at work, and I found myself writing the phrase "Poor me." Seriously. I mean, it really hurts! But then I realized that, honestly, that's not the case at all. The more accurate statement is "Lucky me."

Lucky me because it's worth it, and it's important to keep reminding myself of that. I have a friend who really wants to have kids, but, for various reasons, can't pursue that goal right now. I have some friends who have suffered the horrors of miscarriages, who want nothing more than to have painful, uncomfortable, inconvenient little fruit-sized people inside of them. How can I let myself forget what a wonderful, beautiful, mysterious gift you are?

Also lucky me because I have an awesome husband who takes care of me, bringing me cake and gatorade and veggie sushi and chicken biscuits, when I don't feel like getting up off the couch. I can't imagine trying to do this by myself (or if I were married to a jerk).

So yes, my back is still killing me, and I would perform any number of impressive feats to be allowed to take an Advil. And yes, I still live on Tums, and I had to leave the jalapenos off my last pizza (boo!) But I know it's all for a good cause -- the best cause! -- and this, too, shall pass.

Love,
Mom

15 weeks, 7 days in the oven