So, if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I outed myself this weekend as being a barfy, bloated, kind of crabby pregnant lady.
It is part of the reason I haven’t been posting much lately. I’ve spent most (and by most I mean 99.9%) of my free time on the couch, trying not to throw up. The first trimester isn’t really my friend. When I was pregnant with the little monkey, I was sick for pretty much the whole first trimester. I lost about 10 pounds or so and swore that I’d never do this whole pregnancy thing again. Ha.
As of today, I’m down nine pounds from when I found out I was, much to our MAJOR surprise, pregnant three weeks ago, so it looks like I am right on track to have a similar experience as last time, though this time I really super duper mean it when I say I don’t ever want to be pregnant again (snip snip darling husband).
Don’t get me wrong, even though this pregnancy was a surprise (hey, remember that post I wrote a while back about how my doctor told me I had PCOS and would “need assistance” if I ever decided to get pregnant. Haaaaaaaaa!) we are pleased and hopeful about this baby. I just really, really hate the first trimester.