I sailed through the first six weeks with barely a glimmer of nausea, and now- BAM!- I'm a wreck. I hate being pregnant. Hate, hate, hate, hate. In the middle of an hours long wave of extreme nausea the other night I begged Matt to not ever, ever let me talk him in to getting pregnant ever again. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade Iris or the new little pea for the world, but I won't ever do this again. I need to remember how terrible it is next time I get baby fever. I need to get my damn tubes tied. Any more babies will not be born from my loins, mark my words!
So, back to the whole feeling like shit thing. I'm over it, I mean, really really over it. It needs to go away right now. I am trying hard to wear a smile, keep my heart on the outcome, but it's just so hard. I'm in week seven, and if my last pregnancy says anything about how this one will go, I will be over this feeling right about at the 11-12 week mark. The days are getting marked off the calendar, believe me.
In other news, Matt, Iris and I met with the midwfie who attended my last labor. I am so torn as to whether or not I want to attempt an out of hospital birth this time or just send myself straight to the hospital. It's so hard to make this kind of decision right now, while I feel so bad. Luckily my midwife said to take my time, I am still really early in the pregnancy and I have alot of time to decide what I want to do. I can say that it felt really good to see her, and my other midwife and they were so happy to see us. They would really love for me to deliver my baby there, and that means alot to me. It's not just like they are saying "Oh, you want to deliver here? Okay, sounds good." and then I become just another pregnancy to attend to.
Matt has been super awesome this pregnancy and has been incredibly helpful. I can hardly do anything other than lay my butt on the couch all day, so there is alot of stuff to be done around the house. It's wonderful to have so much support. He's a great dada!