I bet you weren't wondering where I was. Okay, maybe you were. Sometime around early July I began to feel the stirring of "morning sickness" and heartburn and exhaustion and misery. I call it morning sickness, but it would last from two in the afternoon to three in the morning. I don't throw up easily, so I would just lay in bed wondering if it was possible to die of pure wretchedness. Sadly, the fact that I was sick as a dog prevented me from sleeping at night which meant that I was forced to sleep in the morning when N was playing with Legos on the floor. Literally, I'd get up and feed him and help him use the potty and then I'd toddle to the couch and zonk out.
Sadly, the symptoms kept piling up. After the nausea began to die down (but not disappear), the heartburn began to really get bad and then the weird bitterness in my mouth took over. Everything tastes bitter including sweets such as chocolate or starches such as potatoes. Milk tastes bitter. The only thing that doesn't taste bitter is lemonade which exacerbates my heartburn like nothing else besides Indian food (a household favorite dinner). Then, the headaches started. They'd last three days, easily, and I couldn't take any effective medicine for them.
The side effect of all this is that I've lost five pounds since getting pregnant, I'm grumpy and depressed, and I just want to eat normally. Like, I want my husband to make me a giant pot of risotto and I want to eat it and some Brussels sprouts and then I want to finish off my meal with a giant slice of pie or cake or an ice cream sundae.
I can't even look at half the food I just mentioned without running to my room, lying down, and closing my eyes. Even thinking of them as food rather than words makes me start to get sick. If I ate a third of that, my stomach would rebel and I'd get heartburn that would last me for four or five days and then I'd clear my throat and I'd be stuck trying not to be sick for an hour or more. I spend most of my days thinking of food, how I'd love to eat, and then getting sick at either the reality or the thought of it.
Other than that? I'm pretty damned excited to be pregnant again. I want another child, but I'm afraid of how this new baby will affect my relationship with N. I love N's growing independence and creativity, but I want to cuddle him like he's my baby still. I am looking hesitantly at our finances. I spend half my time willing this baby to be a girl and the other half willing it to be a boy. I cry at the drop of a hat over either happy or sad things. I wonder why my husband isn't sick. I wonder why he doesn't do enough around the house. I thank God he does so much around the house and I want to cry because I'm not grateful enough.
I count down the weeks until "delivery". I pray that the holidays make it sail along. I hate that the doctor gave me a choice between C-section and VBAC. I love that she was actually concerned about my mother's four miscarriages rather than dismissive. I hate that she told me I might need to go on blood thinners once again, but love that she didn't mock me for being a big scaredy cat about pain. When I told her I had a panic attack during my last C-section, she asked me if I was taking medication and then indicated I might want to look into it after giving birth if I normally experienced a lot of anxiety.
I'm so miserable about being pregnant, but I realize I should be grateful that it is going so well and that I get pregnant easily.
I was just on a week's vacation and Paul was home for about nine or ten days straight. I'm finally rested enough to post on this blog again. Maybe you'll see me soon. After all, N starts pre-school soon, and you might hear my hormonal weeping about my baby not wanting his mommy from your current location.
Missed you all and I hope we can talk again!
