Christa Black

That’s right folks…I’m pregnant!  

I found out middle of July and what an adventure it’s been.  The first few weeks were incredible and, as they say, I was glowing.  And then…

(dun, dun, duuuuuun).

Morning sickness.

I know this part is necessary for some.  It ensures that the baby is healthy and that the mama is giving her little one everything it needs, but I’m telling you….it was rough.  For about 3.5 months I was either in bed or on the couch.  Netflix became my best friend, as did saltine crackers, and sometimes just shuffling from the bedroom to the bathroom felt like the world was falling in.  Studhubs was a champion…he did EVERYTHING.  Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping…breakfast in bed every morning as I laid there allowing it to digest so I didn’t feel like I was going to throw up all over everything.

It kind of felt like a combination of the stomach flu and a hangover….all the time.  In fact, my words would slur so badly, I had to ensure people I hadn’t kicked back a few!

But even through the pain….there was this excitement that I can’t explain.  It wasn’t just sick….it was sick with a purpose.  I had a little person growing in me, and my motherly instincts kicked in as I endured whatever it took….excited about it…to make sure that baby was ok.

For 3 months, we didn’t tell anyone but family and besties.  I thought after the 3 months was up, we’d start announcing it…but I still felt so horrible, the last thing I wanted was a bunch of questions.  Everyone told me “Don’t worry, it’ll break at week 13 when your first trimester is over.  

Week 13 came and went…no relief.  

Then they’d say, “Don’t worry, it won’t last past 15 weeks.”  

Week 15 came and went…nothing.  

A few wise women said, “Just wait…you’ll wake up one day, and it will just be gone.” And that’s exactly what happened.

At week 18 (yep, that’s right….18 weeks of sick, folks), I woke up one morning…and it had evaporated like it had all been a dream.  Just like a miracle.  Just like all the days that I’d prayed for it to lift…it had, and I was back to normal.  

Back to my jolly ole Christa Joy self.

I think my muscles had atrophied a bit, and walking from my loft to the car left me hilariously out of breath (yes, Studhubs got a few chuckles at my geriatric panting).  But I didn’t care.  My baby was healthy, and so was I.  

And I could finally enjoy the miracle of being pregnant.

For the last 2 weeks, that’s exactly what I’ve done.  I’ve radiated with the reality that there’s this little man growing inside of me, and that he’s ours—made from us—and that he’s real.  I’ve got such a long torso, most people can’t tell, but he’s in there, and he’s kicking!  (Especially when I play classical music.  Maybe he’ll fancy the violin like his mama?)

So there it is.  Christa Black is having a little boy….and I finally feel up to SCREAMING IT FROM THE MOUNTAINTOPS!!!!!  

Life, life, life, life, life.  How sweet it is.  (:

More details to come.

xx, Christa