Why the silence?

Well, I'm guessing that at least some of you have figured out why I have been so silent recently.  My last period of blog-quiet was two years ago when I was just expecting Isaac.  (Have you guessed yet?)  So, yes we are expecting a sixth bundle of joy at the beginning of June which makes me 10 weeks pregnant.  And very sick.  Which makes me wonder if we might indeed be expecting two bundles of joy.  (Jacob is rooting for triplet girls to even things out; he says he will help with the nights.)  I have wrestled with telling people about this pregnancy as five was a little crazy, but, six, well, six is, you know, a little over the edge, isn't it?

Maybe I thought so once, but not anymore.  Once you have the privilege of having all these little people around you, something wonderful happens:  you begin to realise that they are far more than number 1, 2 3 or 4 - they are completely unique human beings with whom you have the pleasure of living.  And when someone asks, "Are there 4 or 5?" as if an extra child is akin to a potato in the pot, a mother feels deeply offended.  This baby owes his or her conception to Dave and I feeling that Isaac needed a buddy.   And then we thought that June would be nice as Dave will be off for July and August, and then God said, "Did somebody say baby?" (this part is really necessary) and the rest is history.

Now, if you do some quick calculations back to my trip to Halifax, you will realise that the plane debacle's icky factor just went through the roof as I was 5 weeks pregnant at the time (and covered in vomit).  Are you now amazed that I did not break down in tears somewhere over eastern Ontario?

The last five weeks have been quite tough.  I am almost as sick as I was with the twins only without the ER trips and IV lines.  Yet. I think that the lack of medical intervention has to do with the three intervening pregnancies that have taught me many anti-vomit coping strategies.  If you are interested, we can talk in person.  Needless to say, the laundry is a little backed up, the floor is a little sticky but the bathrooms are clean.  There is also way too much Kraft Dinner around.  This last detail makes the kids extremely happy as does the gingerale that Joe keeps sneaking.

I also find myself in constant need of chewing on fruit gum (which Joe also sneaks).  Either gum or mints.  All of these candies are known as Mom's sick pills.  Joe told me at lunch today that he is a doctor and ordered me to open the mints so that he could try them as part of some sort of medical trial.  He is too short to be convincing.

Grocery store trips have become laughable as this anti-sugar mama now consistently leaves the grocery store with sherbert, mints, Oreos and anything fruity that can be sucked.  The latter tends not to include real fruit.  In fact, in a desperate bid for Jolly Ranchers I sent Dave to Walmart where he phoned me to say that neither he nor any of the staff knew what Jolly Ranchers were.  I don't understand.  And I still don't have Jolly Ranchers.  But I have rainbow sherbert; although I really wish that it was orange sherbert from Laura Secord.  The cravings are particularly strong this time around and I find that if I even hear mention of a specific type of food I feel that I need it.  I mistakenly read a blog entry about a woman in her first trimester whose husband was cooking her risotto.  I then berated Dave for not cooking me risotto.  He asked me what that is and if I wanted it.  I told him to forget it, I don't even like the stuff, and he made me fruit salad.  Poor guy, pray for him.

The kids are over the moon with excitement and are enjoying keeping the big news to themselves.  "I pray for you at school, Mom.  I just don't say why."  If any of the kids' schoolmates are reading this, they now know why.  I have yet to go to the doctor although I have managed to swing two Diclectin prescriptions.  I see the doctor on Monday and I imagine that an ultrasound will soon follow.  There is probably only one little person in there; but, another friend of mine is having twins (her 6th and 7th) and, the last time a friend of mine did that, I did too.  So, we'll see.

If you would be so kind, I would appreciate any prayers as it's high time that I felt slightly better.  Our family would also be a little bit healthier if I could manage to do more than stir a pot of noodles, throw frozen stuff in the oven and collapse on the couch with a bowl.  So, there you go, now you know.  We are very happy and will be even happier once I don't feel like dying anymore.  (An unfortunate side effect of bearing new life.)