I know.

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.

So there.

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I am 33 weeks and 4 days pregnant, with 6 weeks and 3 days to go.