Three days after Christmas, and I still haven’t posted a Christmas post.
No pictures, no stories, no nothing.
Color me a shitty blogger.
Here’s the thing. I’ve been talking for weeks, months even, about how much I’ve enjoyed being pregnant. I have reveled in this gestation, and tried to live each moment to the fullest. I have been so thankful for this baby in my belly, and everything to do with her. I have taken the bad summarily with the good, and been thankful for the crappiness as well.
Until this weekend.
This weekend, I hit a shit-brick wall. I got sick with a cold. I have had NON-STOP heartburn. The only thing I can take that actually cures the heartburn gives me diarrhea. Also? The hemorrhoids I have been dealing with for nearly two years now have reached newly epic proportions, and the diarrhea doesn’t help. My cold? I cough. And cough. And cough. I have coughed to the point where I feel like I’m going to bust open. My ribs hurt. My abs (what there is of them) hurt. My throat hurts so bad I can’t swallow; I can hardly speak. I cough myself awake, and I can’t fall back asleep. I wake Brock up, so I get up. I haven’t slept more than a handful of hours, and I’m exhausted.
In a matter of three days, I have gone from complete serenity to utter misery. I hope I can get past this and enjoy the rest of my pregnancy with the grace I knew earlier. I don’t want to take any moments for granted. I don’t want to wish this away.
But right now, I don’t want to be sick or pregnant any more. I don’t want to write about Christmas. I want to whine.
I am 33 weeks and 4 days pregnant, with 6 weeks and 3 days to go.