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Week 9.5

I am sitting here staring at the ham sandwich that my husband so graciously made for me this morning and I'm desperately trying to make myself take a bite. I keep telling myself that it will taste really good and that it will make this wave of nausea go away, but my poor stomach just won't believe me. It knows I've tried to trick it before, and the results weren't pretty. And since I'm totally exhausted and the restroom is clear on the other side of the building, I think this whole sandwich thing is a losing battle. Oh well.

I thought things had been getting better. I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago and she took one look at my pale, pinched face and prescribed me the holy grail of nausea pills - Zofran. (Why she didn't prescribe that right off the bat, I have no idea, but beggars can't be choosers, right?!) I popped one of those precious little pills into my mouth right away, and about thirty minutes later, I almost felt normal. NORMAL. What a concept! I even got hungry and began an instant love affair with BBQ potato chips. I was on top of the world. We drove up to Mariposa to tell Hoby's parent's about the baby and I felt fabulous the whole time. I was in heaven.

I went to see Dr. Fine again this past Friday and she immediately remarked on how much better I looked. (Maybe that jinxed it?) She did another ultrasound and this one was the best yet. I actually got to see our tiny little friend moving all over the place - the baby looked like she/he was trying to kick box or something! It's strange how I can't feel that, but I guess I will soon enough. I had a big smile on my face as I left the office, thinking how this pregnancy thing wasn't so bad now that I wasn't puking anymore and that seeing the baby made all the suffering worth it - and that's when it hit. A big fat wave of nausea. Put me right in my place.

Since then I've been feeling terrible. We went to a really fun party on Saturday night and I refused to be a party pooper, so I bravely tried pretend I felt fine - I even boogied on the dance floor a bit. All I wanted for one stinkin' night was to feel okay and enjoy myself. But on Sunday I paid for it dearly. We went to the movies last night, and the whole time I was there all I could think about was trying to keep my dinner down. Needless to say, I didn't enjoy the movie. And today I'm even worse. I'd give anything to go home from work right now, curl up in bed and die. Okay, not really die, but you know what I mean. Will this EVER end?????