A Phone Call and Other Stuff

Tuesday, April 14, 2015


I have a bad habit of returning phone calls with texts.  Today, a church member called and called. Thinking she wanted something, I responded with a text. Her response, "You need to call me." I just knew she wanted something.  I called.  She sure did want something.

She missed seeing the children and I at church, especially since the three J's didn't participate in Easter.  I was shocked.  I didn't think anyone from church noticed that the crew and I have been absent.  Her phone call really made my day.

Each day in the evenings are truly a struggle for me. Sometimes, like now, all I can do is take Tylenol and wrap myself on my sofa, while texting my mom and hubby with my illness complained (I am sure they are tired of me, too). No one else really wants to hear that I am still not fully well.   Each evening, I have a fever of 99+ and cannot move.

I am really turning into a recluse.  It's easier to be alone and not explain to someone that you just aren't feeling up to talking, texting, or anything.  Thankfully, the 3J's are my CNAS. They bring me ice and cool towels, take my temperature, massage my aching, swollen feet, and bring me the bag full of meds, which do not work.

I have 3,000 work emails to read, 1,000 personal emails to read, and a to-do list that keeps getting longer and longer.  My only wish is to regain all my energy loss.  Losing as much blood as I have lost, I am amazed that I still can do what I need to do with my regular routine.

Today, I am four months.  As I wobble to my office and wobble to my car and wobble to run errands, I am thankful that I still can wobble because thinking you are having a miscarriage is a scary and unexplainable experience.

I haven't been home in a long time... since Spring Break. For me that is ages... I need to get home to my mama and lay my head in her lap and have her pray for me and Baby Wilder.  This journey sure is rough.  I am having flashbacks with my pregnancy with Jasmine.  Just glad it's not that bad.


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