I swear, this time the nausea is worse than before. I have up days and down days, and it’s worse in the mornings, but y’all: I am siiiiiiiiiiiiiick. Lawsy. Today was a bad day: I didn’t even get out of my PJs until like 4:30 and all I wanted to do was lie on the sofa and moan. I kept trying to force myself to eat *something,* knowing that it would probably make me feel better, but it’s hard to make yourself eat when the thought of food makes you sick. The worst of it all is feeling like such a horrible mother. I don’t even want to think about how much TV we watched today. The Hatchling had to wait until Mr. Squab got home to even go outside – it’s perishingly hot today and I just. Could not. Take it. I tried to play with her as much as I could; we read a bunch of stories and did some watercolors … but I still burst into tears as soon as Mr. Squab walked in the door and sobbed on his chest about what a bad mom I am. Fucking pregnancy hormones. I HATE this. I love my daughter more than I can even express, and I will be so very happy to have another kid, but whoever is in charge of this women-suffering-through-pregnancy nonsense had better watch out because if I meet him on the street I will HUNT HIM DOWN AND KILL HIM.
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