8 Weeks and A Ways To Go

OMG I’m dying. Dying I tell you!!

I feel like absolute shit, and I look just as bad as I feel!! I haven’t washed my hair in days, I haven’t been out much, and I don’t want company. I throw up after each meal now and so quickly that I’m sure I’m not obtaining any essential vitamins from my meals. My prenatals are quite a bitch to keep down too. They smell like rotten fish, no thanks to the fish oils and omega-3’s.

I’m headed into my 3rd consecutive week of all day Extreme Nausea and the vomiting started last week. My throat and my chest are always on fire, and my stomach muscles are very sore. I can hardly stand up for 5 full minutes before feeling very weak and queasy. I tired very easily too. I’ve taken a nap almost every day and if I don’t get a nap in, I can certainly tell a difference in my mood. My energy drops dramatically, and I’m really rather cranky.

I’ve been able to pinpoint some of my latest food aversions: almond milk, salsa and tomato sauces for example. Those, however, couldn’t hold a candle to TOOTHPASTE! Dear God, as soon as I get a whiff of toothpaste, or as soon as the toothpaste touches my tongue, my stomach is officially on E! I barf by the bucketload, guaranteed at least twice a day. I’m going to brush my teeth dammit.

So far, I’m not really enjoying this pregnancy. I don’t care what size it is, what sort of sea creature it may look like this week… I just want to eat a meal and keep it down. My skin is breaking out like crazy, I can’t stay awake, I can’t focus, I can’t stand up for too long, and I am having the worst sleep ever! My lower abdomen feels so tender, I’m sore all across my core, and my lady parts hurt. I’m a total stomach sleeper, which is now shitfest. God, someone get me the FUCK out of this first trimester. I can’t fathom five more weeks of this Barf-a-thon.

Someone please help me!

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Seven Weeks and Counting

I feel terrible. Absolutely terrible. I feel like I’ve had a level 5 hangover for a week straight. I keep hearing that it’s normal and that it could potentially get a bit worse from here, but goodness… this is torture! I wake up insanely nauseous and it doesn’t let up until I pass out for the night. Oh, and I can’t seem to stop eating. Oddly enough, the only time I DON’T feel nauseous is when I’m stuffing my face. I’ve been taking my prenatal vitamins at night as well, to offset some of the nausea. They taste like fish-oil and ass! Yuck. In addition to my nausea (not vomiting so far), I’ve been quite the narcoleptic. I am constantly operating below 50% charge all day, everyday. I think I fell asleep in the middle of a conversation with my mom today. How embarrassing!

Mom sent me a photo of what our baby looks like at 7 weeks…

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He/she looks like a little manatee, but it is supposedly measuring the size of a blueberry! Now I’ve dubbed him/her our “Little Manatee.” It’s becoming more and more real everyday that this pregnancy is legit and NOT a sick joke from the cosmos. Husband is definitely getting more excited. To say he was a bit shell-shocked would be the understatement of the year!! It’s totally understandable too. I mean, we’ve barely figured out what’s going on with us in regards to NYU and the Peace Corps, and now this.

Perhaps this is why things were just seemingly much more difficult than they all should’ve been. I hear they say, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” Ha! How appropriate. We’re just trying to figure out now, what’s the best option for our Little Manatee.

Tomorrow is our first ultrasound. I’m not sure what to expect… lots of medical history questions and perhaps getting to see how many little manatees are in the depths of my uterus. Mom keeps joking around that my GYN put my ovaries into hyper speed and sort of revved up the engines of my lady parts and that I shouldn’t be surprised if my ovaries released an egg or TWO. I say, stop it! Husband and I are just fine with one little Invader of the Uterus!

Apollo doesn't seemed to thrilled at the idea of being a "Big Brother."

Apollo doesn’t seemed to thrilled at the idea of being a “Big Brother.”