9 Weeks, 3 Days

Things have been really monumentally crazy around here which is partly to blame for my lack of entry.
We have family in town and it's been a whirlwind of cackling laughter and small people under-foot.

The other part is just "the usual."
And I struggle with truly documenting "the usual" because...well, because I'm really not in a good place and it's hard to write this, knowing these words are final, unless I hit "delete" at some point.

At the same time, what purpose does it serve to document your beginning if I gloss it over and make it all rainbows and butterflies?
It should be true and honest and from my soul and so, I'll tell you honestly where I'm at.

I'm unbelievably miserable.

Writing that sentence instantly snapped tears to my eyes because I hate saying it and I hate that you'll know it. 
But it's hard being pregnant.
It's impossibly hard to be this sick, to have so much to do, and to not be able to rally myself.

I hit a wall yesterday.
Up until this point in time, I've spent a vast majority of my days laying around.
I've been sickly for weeks now, and really, I am thrilled to report that I'm no longer vomiting multi-times a day.
But the nausea has seemingly grown worse and I find that I almost want to.
In the end, I do nothing.
I lay around uselessly.
I sit and stare into space.
I sleep in late.  I nap in the afternoons. I doze after dinner.
It's just...annoying.

So with all this new activity at home, I've been a bit displaced.
I've had to haul up and at least pretend to participate in the day and some of this has been good for me.
But mostly, I just crave silence and weeks passing on the calendar.

Yesterday I was sitting at my computer for the first time in days, and I just back for a minute and suddenly tears were just streaming down my cheeks.
I really hadn't noticed when I began crying nor did I really know the reason but I knew I needed to hit my own personal bottom.

I headed for the stairs, wanting to curl up in my bed and just...cry, and by the time I made it to the top of the stairway, I was literally running for my room. 
I scrambled under the covers, pulled my pillow close and just wailed.
I wailed so long and so loudly that I was afraid I'd draw every single child in the house upstairs, wanting to know who could possibly be so miserable to be sobbing in such a way.
But I couldn't stop and I couldn't quiet myself and I was honestly so stunned by the depths of my own despair that it didn't even sound like me; had I not known that it was, in fact, I, who were making those pitifully body-wracking sobs, I would never had believed it to be true.

I couldn't stop because it felt so...good, in a bad sort of way.
Crying is a stress reliever for me, one that isn't used frequently but serves its purpose well when it's hauled out.
It was more the intensity that surprised me.
Some of my reaction I can, and do, attribute to the wacked-out hormones coursing through my body and the rest is just built-up frustration with feeling so bad all the time.
It is not easy being pregnant.
At least not for me, not right now, not with a life so bursting-at-the-seams full.
Really, it's just not easy being SICK.

So I cried until I couldn't cry any longer.
Daddy came up and stayed with me for awhile, probably figuring he could help calm me, but really, I just needed that meltdown in a bad, bad way.
It felt so wonderful to break down like that, which might sound strange, but normally, I just soldier on.
I'm too busy for that level of drama :)
But yesterday it was just what I needed.
And when I could not summon up one more wail, I stopped.

I let go of my pillow, got out of my bed, opened the draperies and...moved on with my day.

Am I better?
Shrug.
I'm managing.

I suppose I'll look back on this entry and will always hate reading it.
I hated writing it and cried the entire time.
It's difficult to admit how hard this is for me right now.
But this is just a part of the journey, a blip in the road, a fork in the path.

It'll get better.

Loving you already,
Mama