Well then… the sickness.
Lordy, the sickness. I said to Paul last night that this is the hardest thing I’ve done. Reading that “your body feels alien to you” doesn’t make it feel less alien. I’ve always had so much control over my body. Whether starving it, gorging it, or pushing it to its physical limits while training… this is all completely out of my control.
I’ve lost weight, but gained fat around my middle, I can have the best intentions of having an even remotely productive day- and wake up vomiting violently and uncontrollably instead- throwing every plan but staying sane, out the window.
What an absurd thing to go through. And it be normal. I look forward to meeting this sass ball. Who will apparently be worth it.
I’ve never been this out of control with my health, my body, my well-being. I’ve never been forced to rest so much. And not be ABLE to push through.
None of this is necessarily negative. Just difficult. I’m a passenger on this journey, the baby is already taking over my life. I’m tired.
