I Just Need to Vent...

I swore to myself that I wasn't going to do this. I told myself that I was made of sterner stuff. I told myself to suck it up, be strong, and not to be a whiner baby. Yet here I am. A whimpering, wailing, whiner baby who's woes can no longer be contained to my friends and family. I am complaining globally. The world wide web seems a big enough place to shoulder my supreme annoyance with pregnancy.
I have been in the throws of morning sickness for nearly 6 weeks. That is 42 days! The last three weeks have been miserable. I just want this part to be over. I wake up every morning feeling like death. I eat little tidbits of food just so that I will have something to throw up because nothing spoils a morning like dry heaving bile. I make my kids breakfast, get them dressed, and drive them to school...in my bathrobe. Eventually I forge into the kitchen for something decent to eat, really anything that will stay down is considered decent (last week it was mashed potatoes. That's right, every day for lunch I had mashed potatoes with cheese-because you've got to have protein right?). Then I put Ella down for a nap and force myself to get dressed for the day, or what remains of it. My only real goal is to be showered and dressed before I pick Caden up from school. Life is hard enough with out having a puke smelling, greasy haired, women in a bath robe yelling, "Caden, its mommy!!" across the school yard. Then I count down the hours until Jon gets home, usually with take out in hand because making dinner, something I have always loved, is beyond what my stomach can handle most days. The evening progresses and I usually have one final bought of throwing up and crying about my miserable life and its time for bed. Day in, and day out. It sucks.
I know that it will let up eventually. It always has in the past. But there is this vicious little voice in my head that whispers that there is no guarantee. Maybe I will be one of those tortured souls who has morning sickness all nine months. I wouldn't last. I don't know who you women are, but you are stronger than me.
I just want to be myself again. The girl who gets it done. A multi tasker who puts on clothes not made of terry cloth. The mom that has play dates and outings and fun craft projects hanging on the wall, verses the mom who has the afternoon line up of cartoons memorized so that at least I know when to make the kids change the channel when something I don't approve of comes on. The friend who is fun and helpful verses the whiney reclusive thing I am now. Yup, I thought I was made of sterner stuff, but I am not. Being broken down physically for so long has broken me down mentally. I actually have started having anxiety every night because I know that the morning is just around the corner and along with the morning comes the afternoon, and after that, the evening and it just goes around and around with out much hope of the morning bringing relief or change.
I will stop now. I'm sure I will read this post later and absolutely cringe at my weakness and complaining. It will get better. It will. It will. It will.
By the way, when I get to the other side, I have a whole conversation with God worked out. WHY, on top of everything else we subject our body to in order to bring souls into this world, are we plauged with nausea and vommitting? I won't even mention the stretch marks, the weakened bladder, the enemas that keep our pregnant bowels moving, the chaffing bleeding nipples involved in nursring, and all the cute bras we trade in for something able to hold up skin that will never be described as "perky" again. No, all of that I'm okay with. But REALLY, being sick on top of all of that. It just seems excessive. Yeah, he and I are going to have a nice long chat.