The only way I can describe how I've felt for the last 10 weeks is a constant hangover. I never ever gave enough credit to those who suffered from 'morning' (all day) sickness. I remember - years ago - rolling my eyes when someone I worked with said they thought pregnant women suffering from morning sickness should get a 3 month sick leave. "It can't be that bad" I thought. Oh do I regret that. I'm miserable and not hungry at all, yet ironically eating every two hours is the only thing that wards off getting sick. If I feel hunger coming on...kiss of death. Guaranteed I'll be running to the bathroom. So I'm forcing myself to eat and all I can eat is bread and crackers with peanut butter. And apple sauce. I'm also pretty sure I have a constant look on my face that resembles someone who just ate a lemon or something really gross. For the first 8 weeks no one knew why, which was even worse. Suffering in silence.
At one point, I wasn't keeping anything down, and the doctor was concerned I was getting dehydrated so she prescribed me this medicine that is supposed to take away the nausea. I was so excited about this I went right to the pharmacy and may have even smiled. The pharmacist, who was a very nice older gentleman, congratulated me and asked if I'd ever used this medicine before.
Me: No but I'm looking forward to not throwing up all the time.
Him: Okay, now, do you have to function during the day?
Me: Um, yes? I mean, I have to go to work if that's what you mean.
Him: Well, this drug can make you EXTREMELY drowsy. It's not always safe to drive.
Me: So, I can't take it during the day??
Him: Well you can cut it in half, and just take half of it.
Me: So I'll be half drowsy and half nauseous???
Dejected, I went home, took the not-so-wonder drug and slept for 12 hours.
Now I don't mean to complain... I realize it is all worth it, and at some point I will feel better. I just never ever realized it could or would be this hard. Some have a better first trimester than others, and for them, I'm happy. Or I will be happy for them, someday. But for now, all I can do is barely make it through the work day, and come home to the dent I've been making in the couch.
I can barely remember the life when I would not only work a full day, but start the day by running 5 miles then go to a meeting or a happy hour or dinner after work. Will that ever be me again? I really hope so.
Oh and lastly I have to give credit to the darling hubs who not only puts up with that horrible 'I-ate-a-lemon' face, but also:
- gets me peanut butter toast at midnight when I feel the kiss of death coming on
- cooks me dinner most nights even when I smell it and decide there is no way I can eat it, despite how good it probably is
- doesn't get mad when I then ask for ramen noodles instead of his gourmet creation
- has been king of the cat litter since the pink line incident
He's really freaking awesome, and I'm so glad to have him around.
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