7 weeks, 3 days - Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve! I plan to do a belly photo today, just for fun, even though there's nothing to see, still.

I've had a few really bad days back to back, with the nausea and the tiredness. Yesterday I pretty much stayed in bed all day, minus a few hours in the morning. I am also feeling depressed and sad - irrationally so, so I know it's just hormones. I couldn't be more thankful Al's home. I seriously couldn't have handled these days alone.

The taste in my mouth - it's so awful! It never goes away, it makes all food taste digusting, and it literally wakes me up at night. And it feels like there's this little gaggy glob of something right at the opening of my throat. It almost always feels like I've just recently vomited and there's a chunk left back there that needs to be rinsed and spat out. Only this one never goes away. I use mouthwash, I brush my teeth, I drink, I eat and NOTHING makes it go away.

On top of the nausea and just feeling generally flu-like, I also have pink-eye, so can't wear my contacts or make-up. I feel hideous, which doesn't help matters. Today, though, I feel better mood-wise, so far. It doesn't sound like I do, but I do!

I know in my head that all of this will pass. It might be 5 more weeks, it might be 22 more weeks. Who knows. But it'll be over. Eventually. It's just that the thought of living with it even 5 more DAYS is overwhelming. I just feel hopeless and like I want to go to sleep and never wake up until I feel better. Yet it's Christmas Eve, and tomorrow is Christmas, and of course I want to be awake and conscious for those. Even though I will spend them in my own head, trapped in this sick, gross feeling body, wishing for relief.

I hate that I sound this way. I hate that I FEEL this way. I wish I were one of those people who could just put on a brave face and smile through it. I always sorta thought I was, mostly, but this. This is different.

And I worry. I feel bad for the BABY that I feel this way. That maybe one day he or she will know about this and somehow feel bad about it. That Bean's pregnancy was so beautiful and wonderful, and this one is (so far, granted it will likely get better) so miserable. I don't want that for this child. It's not a happy, pleasant beginning. It's not the baby's fault. Al occasionally jokingly scolds Peanut... talking to my belly, saying, "You better stop making Mama feel so bad!" and I actually feel ANGRY at him and want to stop him. It's not Peanut's FAULT. Peanut, do you hear me? It's not your fault! I love you. You belong in there! Mama is not blaming you, would never blame you for any of this! I promise.

I've been trying to eat small amounts more frequently. That doesn't really seem to do much to help though, but who knows, maybe if I weren't doing that I'd feel worse. Which I can't imagine. But I'm not throwing up. I often feel like I'm right on the verge, but never quite get there.

I miss being me. I miss storming around getting things done, I miss laughing and smiling and taking care of my family.