About 6 weeks ago, I was invited to go on a deep-sea fishing trip with Casey's stepbrother and his wife, and a few other people. I declined, knowing that I was going to be nearing the end of my first trimester at that point and I probably wouldn't want to sit on a boat in the Gulf for 6 hours.
The trip is next weekend.
I'm supposed to be 12 weeks pregnant. I'm supposed to be sick and swollen and sore. I'm supposed to be dizzy and emotional, and be happy and excited about my upcoming second trimester. I'm supposed to be thinking about names and colors for my baby's room. I'm supposed to be speculating about the sex of my baby, and resisting the urge to buy pink EVERYTHING. I'm supposed to be buying my first maternity clothes, because I should be starting to show just a little.
Instead, I'm crying myself to sleep every night. I'm avoiding human contact outside of my home and work. I'm throwing myself into all of these home improvement projects that my husband objects to, because I have to keep my mind on something other than what I'm going through right now. I ignore almost every phone call, and I get mad at people for trying to talk to me. My husband had to talk me off a cliff this afternoon at lunchtime, because of course our table had to be next to the new mom that brought her brand new baby to lunch. Of course. Why can't I sit next to people that don't make me cry?
I know I'm not the only one that's gone through this. And I know it'll get better eventually. I just don't know when....and it doesn't help that I have hellacious cramps all of a sudden...the kind of cramps that I used to get as a teenager that would kick me out of commission for a week. Not only do they suck because I can't function without painkillers, but they're a constant reminder that I'm not pregnant anymore....and that makes me cry.
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