Oh yes, I was crying on my way to the honeymoon.
Fast forward to after the honeymoon and we house sat for a bit, then moved in with my dad because he was living all alone in a big house and needed the company.
Translated: We were dirt poor and Paul would be out of work for an upcoming surgery and my dad happened to have an empty room.
Re-cap: Pregnant in April, Married in June, Paul's ACL reconstruction in October, Baby in December...say what?
You know how you hear wives complaining about what they're going to do after their husbands retire because they drive them nuts when they are home all day and not working? Yep, four months into our marriage we were dealing with retirement type issues. I do have some fond memories, though of Paul on painkillers because he talks in his sleep anyways, but dude, painkillers make it America's Funniest Home Videos worthy. Enough about that.
I'm one of those people that most pregnant women hate because when I'm pregnant, I'm all baby. It looks like I'm all basketball, but no, it's a baby. My doctor told me that there was, and I quote, "No way in heaven you will make it until your due date." Hmmmph. Four days AFTER my due date, Zahara was born leaving me sore and with only half of my blood. At the risk of oversharing, turns out I'm a bleeder so after fainting in the shower and losing any shred of dignity I had left which wasn't much, I found myself in bed, sucking down apple juice, and wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next five years.
We came home on New Year's Day 2006 with our little tax exemption. If you want to know why we named her Zahara, feel free to read this post.
I'm not sure how many parts this story will have.
I'm sure it will be longer than necessary
since God has gifted me with words.
many, many words.
If you missed Part 1
you can read it here.
In other fun news, I'm giving away
a Village Candle this week.
Here's the link for that!