…until the end of the first trimester. I can’t wait.
I’m starting to feel slightly more normal, but it’s still pretty touch and go. Most mornings I feel OK, but every night, around 5:00 P.M., I start to feel sick, and it lasts until bedtime. I was very discouraged last week, because I threw up at least once a day, and on Thursday, 4 times. I was so exhausted and weak that on Friday morning, after I threw up because of something in the garbage disposal that smelled off, I suddenly started crying. I just felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, and I went to our room and collapsed on the bed in tears.
My husband came in and put his arms around me, and whispered soothing things in my ear. In between bouts of sobbing, I managed to tell him that I’m just so sick and tired, I feel like I could sleep my life away. I also told him that, judging by the way it’s handling this pregnancy, I think my body is just too old to be manufacturing a baby. His reply was, “Well, it’s doing a good job of it.”
He’s been so incredibly sweet and helpful, despite the excruciating, debilitating back pain he’s been suffering with for the last month. We’re not sure what happened to his back, but he’s been going to a chiropractor regularly, and has had little relief. Nonetheless, he’s been helping with dinner, loading the dishwasher, doing laundry, and bathing the kids and putting them to bed, usually because I’m already passed out on the couch, snoring, by 7:30. I don’t have any idea what I would do without him.
Bee started swimming lessons yesterday, so every morning I must get the children dressed and fed and plastered with sunscreen so we can make it to the pool on time. While Bee is at her lesson, Cakes and I go to the park, and I push her on the swings for 45 minutes until Bee is done. The heat and humidity make my nausea so much worse, and I’ve started carrying a small plastic bag in my pocket, just in case I have to throw up. While in public, I repeat my “I will not throw up, I will not throw up,” mantra, over and over, to distract myself from the possibility that I just might, in fact, throw up.
Every night, I pray to God to please, please help me feel better the next day, to give me just an ounce of energy – anything at all – to help me get through the day. So far it’s not working, and I know that I just need to wait patiently for this to pass, but, well…patience isn’t really a virtue of mine.[print-me/]