My blog was down for a few days – actually nearly a week – while  I was dealing with hosting issues.  This made me realize how much I value being able to write here.  Yes, I could write in a personal journal.  I did more many, many years, from elementary school, through high school, college, and grad school.  I think finding “my man” had something to do with my diminished urge to write down private thoughts.  Maybe my life is just more boring?  I guess I like sharing with people – not too many people, mind you, which is why I don’t share my posts on Facebook or something like that.  Writing is unbelievably therapeutic.  Sometimes, I don’t need that therapy, but right now, dealing with morning sickness, it is incredibly important to me.  While my blog was down, it was so frustrating not to be able to write about my misery in a way that would not be lost.  I thought about writing myself an e-mail, but never quite got around to it.  Anyway, I didn’t realize how much I’d miss being able to post, since I often don’t post that frequently, but when I do get the urge to write, I really want to write, even if my thoughts are somewhat inconsequential.

I’m nearly 13.5 weeks.  The relief has kind of come, but it’s not dramatic enough to satisfy me, but I guess that is the way it goes.