My last two pregnancies I was super paranoid about everything I did. I made sure I ate right. I rubbed my belly. I talked to the little ball of cells long before it grew the body parts to hear me.
This time, it's all I can do to remember I'm pregnant and can't drink that wine. I only eat what I think won't make me throw up. I take my vitamin but otherwise I try to pretend this isn't happening. That way I won't be crushed when it all goes to hell. I cringe whenever my husband or girls say something about the future with the baby. While they are making plans I have my head firmly planted in the sand. I was watching old episodes of Glee, a show with a pregnant teenager. So many people were focused on that baby. I felt so bad. I looked down at my stomach and whispered, "please grow up, little bean." I hope he/she knows that I'm not unhappy he/she is here, I just don't trust this.
I'm still in terrible pain but not quite as debilitating. I can't do much between that and the extreme nausea (good sign, right?). Two months until my neurologist appointment seems like a ridiculously long time. And I bet they won't do anything anyway. Our fridge is supposed to be fixed (please, please, please), but our master bath is still torn apart and that is annoying me greatly. Both of these are first world problems so I'm trying to keep them in perspective, but geez - can I get one thing at a time here?
Anyway - I guess mommy guilt is better than total denial, right?