Currently, I am sick. It sucks. A lot. I am pretty sure that I have bronchitis (again!!), and am going to the doctor tomorrow after to, hopefully, handle it. I have been coughing so hard for so many days that a very large amount of capillaries have burst in my face, leaving me with ridiculous red pinprick marks all around my eyes, cheeks, and neck.
Today, I coughed so hard for so long, and could not catch my breath. Another teacher came in during the RTI switch just so I could get out of the classroom for 2 minutes and try to get it together. I was sweating and crying and completely red from the shoulders to the top of my head, and my eyes were red and it was ridiculous and terrible. This is not the first time that this has happened to me, but it was the first time that it has happened to this extent, and in the classroom. The kids (second graders) were obviously scared. And don't worry, I got to terrify both my homeroom and RTI classes. Great.
What was actually great, was that after feeling horrible all day and straight up wanting to take a nap on the classroom floor, I was greet by two students waiting at my classroom door as I brought homeroom back from Art class at 3:10 and rushed them toward dismissal. These two adorable children had spent their indoor recess time (it was crap outside today), making me get well cards! The cards were filled with things like "I hope you are felling better," "Merry chrismis," "have a nise afternoon," and "if you epreasheat this i'd be vary happy." The spelling mistakes made them every better. I still feel like garbage, but can't stop smiling when I think of those cards - BEST GET WELL GIFT, EVER! :)
Now, the real reason that I am writing this post: it's time. The proverbial cat is out of the proverbial bag. Best friends know (have known), families know, friends know, and kids that I care about having know, know too. Now it time for the DOC to know...
that I am 13 weeks and 5 days pregnant!! I am due June 12, so sometime around then, I will be not just a person with T1, but a mom with T1.
Three months in and the shock of it (oh, hey, surprise!) has worn off and I can finally tell people beyond my best friend and I am starting to smile when I think of it. My husband no longer looks like he will pass out and/or vomit when he thinks about it. I am excited. I am scared. I am all the things that (I think) I am supposed to be. And I am happy to share it with the internets and the DOC because I know that there will be happiness and excitement and real-life advice and stories and important and wonderful things to come from you, because that's how you guys do.