Tuesday, June 2, 2015

6w2d I forgot what this is like

The nausea, which was only intermittent at five weeks, is now a constant, churning force of nature, threatening to wring out the contents of my stomach at the slightest taste or smell.

Thanks to the fatigue, I have to lay my head down once an hour, and I even managed to fall asleep with my face on a coffee table.

I had to tell my children to stop headbutting my stomach because mommy has a tummy ache that's going to last for the next several months.

There's a living, breathing heartburn monster inside my body trying to burn it's way up my throat.

My husband asks how I'm feeling and I want to punch him because ohmygod-how-do-you-think-I-feel-right-now.

All of my clothes are uncomfortable and it's pretty much impossible to hide the bump that has already formed (despite my husband's disbelief that I could possibly have a bump this early on -- thanks a lot, dear).

I throw away perfectly good food because ohmygod-I'm-going-to-barf-get-it-away-from-me.

...What's different this time around? There's nothing cutesy or lovey, except what I offer the baby silently in quiet moments throughout my day. It seems like there are no positive comments or conversations (yet), just semantics and worries and more incredulity. It's a lot of how-are-we-going-to-fit-them-in-our-cars and how-are-we-going-to-pay-for-daycare and I-thought-you-said-this-wasn't-going-to-happen.

And that's just not fair to you, baby. Or me, damn it. I want the smiles and the onesies, the daydreams and the warmth of the miracle that you are. You are loved and wanted, and my happiness is big enough for all of it, all of us.

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