It was Friday. I wasn’t sure what was wrong. I had been coughing for almost two weeks and all I wanted was to go home and sleep.
I left the office around noon to meet the contractor doing work at our house. We went to Lowes and ordered the new sliding glass doors for our bedroom. It was a lot more than we were planning on spending because they had to be custom ordered. I guess that’s what we get for owning a “character home”.
I got back to the office and opened my lunch. Not much of an appetite so I picked at my salad as I scrolled through missed emails.
A series of dramatic events had apparently happened within the past 24 hours and after getting several emails from Dyce’s school I decided to leave work and go pick him up. (I am purposely leaving out the details of this story. Everything was fine but sometimes you just need to be with your children. I’ll leave it at that.)
I was exhausted but I managed to make it to the grocery store with Dyce (who refused to sit in a cart) and purchase the ingredients for Brad’s birthday dinner the next night.
When Brad got home we set off to our friends’ house where many of our friends were gathering to welcome Danielle, who was in town for her baby shower. A small group of us had been planning her shower for a month or so and she flew in from California to see us. It was so great seeing her and visiting with everyone. I was tired (I know I said that already) and needed to get home to finish the DIY projects I had been working on for her baby shower. I had been up late every night that week, trying to put the finishing touches on her decorations.
We left and headed home. I stayed up pretty late working until I could barely support my body any longer. I climbed in bed and cried.
Man, I must be exhausted.
The next morning I was struggling to pull it together. It was Brad’s birthday so I got up and made him breakfast. I also fed Dyce before gathering my things and heading out the door. I felt like a bad wife for leaving my husband on his birthday. I called my dad on my way to the shower, it was his birthday too. I felt like I cut our conversation short because I had just pulled up to the shower and needed to help set up. I felt like a bad daughter.
When I got inside it was right to work. The guests would be arriving in an hour and there was a lot to set up. I coughed, over and over, and apologized. I fought back tears when I realized I had forgotten to get cocktail napkins. How did I forget them? I know my sweet friends didn’t care. I did and I wish I didn’t.
I hate how hard I am on myself sometimes.
At one point I saw stars and had to feel around for a chair. I sat down as my face grew warm and the ringing in my ears started. This had been happening far too often lately and I promised myself I would make it to the doctor….next week I would have time.
As we were setting up the fireplace decorations Christine asked me if I was ok. I told her that if I didn’t know better, I would swear I was pregnant and that I had been getting light headed and vomiting the past 5 days.
I couldn’t be pregnant though. I knew it.
I was just tired. Work had been crazy and we have had contractors in our house all week and I had been busy planning the shower and Brad’s birthday. That’s all it was.
The shower was beautiful. Danielle looked amazing and the food was incredible. I excused myself and explained it was Brad’s birthday and I needed to get home.
I got home at 4:30, just in time to start preparing Brad’s dinner. He requested cheesy chicken biscuits and homemade mashed potatoes so I went straight to work. I was peeling the potatoes and suddenly I felt light headed again so I pulled up a bar stool and sat at my kitchen counter while I cooked.
I can do this. I’m almost done.
I kept telling myself this.
And then it happened. His biscuits were in the oven and had just strained the potatoes and started whipping them.
I wasn’t sure why. Exhaustion? Possibly. I kept thinking about how this was probably the worst birthday he had ever had. I was too exhausted to carry on much a conversation or be enthusiastic about anything really; I had only managed to invite a few of our friends over for dinner so I was also worried that I wasn’t making enough. I wept as the sounds of the mixer drown out my sniffles.
I climbed in the shower and sat in the tub as the water hit me. I felt terrible so I wept more.
I felt like a bad wife and a bad friend. I forgot the napkins and almost burnt my husband’s birthday dinner.
I went to bed early that night and left Brad to entertain our guests. I would have felt bad but they are our best friends so I knew there was no judgment there.
The next morning I woke up still feeling bad but made it to my dad’s birthday lunch. I couldn’t eat.
When we got home I started vomiting again (sorry) and was running a fever. Then, right in the middle of the Cowboys game, my husband had to take me to the hospital.
Sometimes we are not pregnant, not bad friends or even bad wives. Sometimes we are just sick.
p.s. sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors. i am not proof reading this.