It seems to have been a long day, half way through a long week. I’m tired, nauseous, pathetic and incompetent, and I’ve got 30 or so more weeks of this to go. I really should have kept better notes on what it is I dislike about pregnancy (which would be everything except the baby at the end of it) and maybe we wouldn’t be going through this again just now.
Morning sickness is an extraordinarily badly named affliction. For starters I’m not actually sick, just incredibly nauseous round the clock, and off food and drink. And I’m tired. All I want to do is sleep, especially as I don’t feel sick when I’m asleep. If we had a spare room and a sofa bed in it, I think I’d take myself off there with my netbook and a stack of books and just keep myself out of everyone’s way until I shake my way out of this funk and start feeling more myself.
But life doesn’t work that way, pregnant or not.
Not when you already have children. Today I have done washing. (It got rained on.) Fed myself and Smallest. Failed to feed the rest of the family. Done a lot of sitting around and moping, read lots of books to Smallest. Spent some time outside videoing Small doing woodwork with Uncle David, and the second half of the visit sleeping after I fell asleep getting Smallest down for her nap.
Lots of incompetence. Must do better tomorrow. It is, after all, another day.




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