The first trimester was ugly. U-G-L-Y.
My documentation of seven weeks of sick.
My sink still looks like this. I feel physically unable to unload and load the dishwasher. By the time Tod unloads it, it's completely loaded and ready to wash what was in the sink.
|Couldn't get her to hold still. She loved her crown.|
On my worst day I couldn't get off the couch. Nausea was overwhelming. I ordered a pizza for dinner but felt bugged when the pizza man rang my doorbell. YOU WANT ME TO GET UP?! That night Lennon seemed to understand and took his siblings in the backyard for about an hour. He made them crowns and swords and they played until bedtime. I love him.
Food was my friend and my worst enemy. If I didn't eat every hour or so, the nausea was unbearable. However, nothing sounded good and I was sick of eating. Although I wanted pumpkin bread on a regular basis. One day these were delivered...my sweet Canadian Megan ordered them and had them sent to me. Made me cry. I also cried today watching The Little Mermaid with Ruby. Just the sacrifice that King Triton made so his daughter could be happy...knowing he would miss her...he wanted her in the sea and she wanted those legs. I was bawling.
And don't even get me started on Paul Walker. I choke up just talking about him.
I took a picture of this because WHO EATS THIS post-gym or just before bed. Sick. I'd also come home from the gym and cook up a couple packs of Ramen. Who needs a protein shake or some fruit.
Oh yeah...I don't really eat fruits or vegetables anymore. Although do pickles count?
And there were about three weeks when this combo was all I could stomach. I went through a jar of pickles per week. Judge all you want. But then try this and you'll apologize.
And glad I already look eight months pregnant. No I'm not having twins. Let's keep those big belly comments to ourselves or to our friends at the park, ok?