A glimmer

A good day! My kingdom for a good day!

Today I felt relaxed, and alive, and healthy. I definitely also still felt nauseous on occasion. I slept in, I sat with my horses, I even lunged Slurpee a little.

I watched paul play his ridiculous, but actually amazing online Tank game, and made a brilliant lunch. 

I played in the studio, it rained a little, I cuddled my horses again, and saw Rizzo. My cup is full, I have a few extra spoons, I’m ready for whatever happens tomorrow.

Unpopular opinion

So, so far I really hate being pregnant. There’s no joy in hyperemesis gravidarum. There’s no joy in all day every day exhaustion. There’s no joy in needing other people to get you a drink, or a cold pack, or a bucket, or drive you to work because you physically cannot. And shouldn’t be at work to begin with.

There’s no excitement in waking up to vomit all fluids consumed during the night and then a bunch of bile. There’s no joy in apathetically half-chewing dry toast because the next vom session will be better if you have something to bring up. Why bother even buttering it.

For me, there’s no joy in slowing down, in asking for help, in being on this journey. I’m so excited to be a mum. And even more excited to parent with my incredible other half. But shit. We’re gonna need another way to build a kid. I don’t wanna do this ever again. China’s old one child policy looks GOOD to me!

Migraines without medication are NEXT level. I’ll never put off medicating by choice again. I just watch it coming at me. Like the bushfires. I’m just waiting for the wind to change and it to hit me and only have damage control as an option to combat it. For 3 days…

Fabulously, my run with positive comments and support from mum has ceased. Now I’m being irresponsible if I don’t eat healthy things because I “need to consider the baby’s health too”. Yes mum, I’m choosing empty carbs and fruit only, because I hate my unborn child. Not because I can’t keep much else down. In stark contrast, my mother-in-law is laughing with me saying things like “not fucking glowing? Not ’embracing the fucking joy of pregnancy’?” As I teeter on the pool table suppressing heaving motions. We laugh and she gives me a hug and tells me how happy she is, proud of me she is, and excited she is to be a grandmother for the first time. What a difference.

If I had more time, I’d dive into how mum has made me feel. I didn’t even mention the comments to paul for days. Trying not to let them in. Trying not to break the positive flow between her and I, which had come as a surprise when I initially told her. But they’re in. And now I need to work through them. But who has the energy for that when I don’t even have the energy to get out of bed some days. Still. At 15 weeks…