Then my body started confusing the fight/flight response to extreme stress with fight/flight/vomitconstantly/neversleep.
Seriously, I'm wearing high-school jeans as I sit here typing this.
This past month probably shaved years off my total lifespan, but it's shaved six sizes off my hips.
I figured I could one day get back down to my pre-baby weight, but now I weigh less than I did pre-baby, and I have a lot more muscle than I ever have before.
Of course, pair the dramatic involuntary weight loss with the dark circles around my eyes and you find my parents buying me a truckload of groceries to make sure I'm eating well.
The weight loss I don't mind, but I could really do with some sleep.
I hate being stressed out all the time.
I wish God would give me some kind of sign that things will work out.
How many years can you pray without getting any response of any kind before you stop believing those prayers are being heard?
At least I have my health (sort of) and my daughter, so I have that to be thankful for. As long as I have that much I know I can figure out a way to make everything else work.