First Trimester Blues

I haven’t posted in far too long. Normally I have several topics floating around in my head and I have to space them out. I had intended to put up my travelogue from our North Carolina trip but it’s been over a month now and that seems kinda dumb at this point. Obviously some stuff has happened in the meantime to distract me. Heh. I’ve been pretty much useless by the time I get home from work each day. The exhaustion continues but at least the queasiness after eating has lessened considerably. However, in its place, I now feel beyond bloated after I eat anything. It hasn’t moved into the heartburn phase yet either, which is good because yay no heartburn but bad because antacids don’t actually help. I need to buy a new Boppy pillow for sleeping. Mr. b says I should just take the old one from Kirk but it’s Kirk’s! And besides, why should Child Person Mark II have to begin in vitro with hand-me-downs? Lord knows that’s gonna happen plenty as it is just being a younger sibling. I can feel the expansion tension in my stomach. In fact, I can feel all sorts of uterine movements. Not fetal fluttering yet but there are still familiarities. Unfamiliar, however, is constipation. That was not an issue last time. It actually hurts to poop and I feel like I’m tearing open scabs, which must be the case due to the occasional blood. Guess I’ll have to ask if stool softeners are on the list of OK meds for preggos. Not that I want more drugs. I’m already on antibiotics for this frickin’ sweat gland infection in my arm pit. Which in turn forces me to use anti-fungal cream (externally thank you very much) to keep any yeast infection at bay since antibiotics apparently make women prone to that fun side-effect. And as long as I’m complaining about the functions between my legs, why has the middle of the night peeing already begun? Dammit. I need sleep! My bladder can’t possibly be operating under that much real estate reduction yet. I’m only like 9 weeks fercrissakes! And if I don’t wake up to pee then I wake up to let the damn cat in when I hear her yeowling outside because she wouldn’t frickin’ come in before I went to bed. And if it’s not the cat then it’s the boy and he really sucks these days. He is just mean and a total jerk to both his mama and his daddy. The hitting and the spitting and the screaming and the crying fits and jeez, it’s like he’s three or something. Time outs are ineffectual and we haven’t figured out what to do next. Taking away toys seems to work somewhat. I can’t believe we’re having another one. We are clearly insane.