It started last night when the family was over for dinner and afterwards I pulled some watermelon out of the fridge and spent an hour staring at it longingly because I couldn’t eat it and everyone else could.
It dragged into today. The feeling that this is endless. That here again is yet ANOTHER thing I can’t do. I can’t leave the house. I can’t take a freaking walk. I can’t even eat some freaking fruit without there being consequences.
So today, 3 months to go seems endless. Seems like forever.
The worst part of this is is how much I hate being pregnant. How I want to be past this already – but I can’t wish that. I can’t let her come early, that would be awful. She needs to stay in there for another 11 and a half weeks at least.
It’s like a never-ending cycle of guilt over here. Guilt and feeling miserable because I’m freaking not allowed to do anything. And poor Shmerson, he has to live with this.
Everybody keeps on telling me this will be worth it in the end. I know that’s probably true. But right now everything just seems endless and sucky.