I had a secret (or not so secret) hope that maybe I’d get to dodge the bullet on feeling crappy the first trimester. I’m not sure what I was basing that hope on…perhaps my general good health, and dilligent use of acupuncture. But here we are, 6 weeks on the dot, and it looks like I’m heading down hill.

I’ve started just taking the elevator…even if it is just one floor..and find myself feeling personally offended by the existence of stairs.

I was talking with my boss in the hall this morning about something very compelling and scientific, surely, nodding at all the right times, and even saying a reasonably intelligent thing once or twice…but I was really thinking “I really just need to sit down for a second or I think I might puke.” (though I have yet to actually puke, knock wood)

Our usual evening chore routine, which really doesn’t take long (maybe an hour?), feels like a marathon. Gail is picking up some of my slack, but I hate leaving slack. And yeah, I did TONS of chores when she was pregnant, but we didn’t have a toddler then…there were many fewer chores and we operated with a much larger margin of error between standard operations and “the-house-is-a-complete-wreck-nothing-is-getting-done-I’m-going-
completely-insane.” One strategy right now is to save the “sitting down” jobs for me, but there are only so many of those.

I know we’ll find our stride, and I know I’ll feel better eventually…but six more weeks of this (or worse?) feels a bit daunting….

(with the caveat that I am still beyond thrilled to have exactly this problem…and I suppose feeling crappy is somewhat reassuring)

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