that I HATE being pregnant? OK, I know, no one really wants to hear about how much I hate being pregnant, but I don't care, it's my blog and you don't have to read it if you don't want.
It's awful that the only time during the entire day that I feel good is the 20 min. immediately after I wake up (and only then if I am allowed to sleep as long as I want, which is rare.) After about 20 min. I begin to get hungry, and not regular hungry, like I've not eaten in 100 years hungry.
It's awful that despite being so hungry, I have learned that the only thing I can eat is fairly bland cereal, and even this WILL make me sick, but I can (until this morning) keep it down.
It's awful that the smell of my kitchen, my garage, my dogs, their toys, most foods, and even my husband sometimes, brings on the sudden urge to impersonate Old Faithful.
It's awful that despite being exhausted at night, I can't sleep because I am so uncomfortable.
It's awful that every time I eat I get sick, and if that weren't bad enough, my stomach is so squished that I have to eat about 6 times daily.
It's awful that even though I have to spend so much time trying to figure out what I can eat and when I can eat, and just thinking about food (that I don't want to eat) in general, that a good portion of it doesn't even have the decency to stay in my stomach and do its job.
It's awful that wearing a bra makes me more sick, and that not wearing a bra in uncomfortable because my gals are so tender. (And yes, I've purchased and tried 6 different bras, it doesn't matter.)
It's awful that I have so little control over my emotions, and that the poor Duke has to tolerate me bursting into tears over NOTHING!
It's awful that even though I'm not eating anything I'm still getting fat, and no I don't look pregnant, just fat.
It's awful that I was taking solace in the fact that my feet hadn't swollen at all, until yesterday when I put on my most comfortable pair of dress shoes and they gave me blisters.
It's awful that my legs ache and ache and ache and make me want to scream.
It's awful that there are other things that are awful that are too personal to put on this blog.
It's awful that I want to kill anyone who tells me it will all be worth it, or that it will all be over before I know it, or any other such attempt at comfort.
It's awful that for the most part, I don't have the energy or focus to either knit or read.
It's awful that I am too proud to "allow" myself to be sick. I push myself too hard, and even then I am disappointed in how little I can accomplish in a day. I normally live my life just slightly south of manic, slow is not a good word for me. It's probably the hardest thing about all of this.
I know it could be worse, that doesn't make me feel better.
OK, I guess I'm done with my pitty party now. I guess I'll go back to bed.
ps- I'm turning off the comments for this post. I know ya'll love me and want me to feel better, this was more just for me to vent something that I feel more and more like I should keep to myself.
