I don't really know what I'm doing
Just watching myself in some play
And the actress looks like she wants to go home
And lie in a bed all day
Yeah
Lie in a big bed all day.
~Pattiy Griffin
I was told by 2 books, dozens of webpages, and as many formerly afflicted mothers that at 12 weeks post-conception, I would be feeling significantly better. Significantly.
And yet, I am not.
Not at all.
Alas, I cannot complain too bitterly; my sisters told me I would not feel better after 12 weeks. I do seem to be eating slightly more (in terms of both quantity and variety), but I still feel nauseated 100% of the time. My coworkers have taken pity on me. Laure brought me plain quinoa a couple weeks ago; Wendy has twice given me her apple at lunch, and Steve brought me his wife's homemade corn and potato chowder for lunch today. And Greg (not known for being a particularly nice man) asks me how I'm feeling almost every day. These acts of kindness are ever-so-appreciated. As soon as I feel okay, I'm going to bring cookies for the department. I don't know how I'll repay Tim, however, who the other day went to three different grocery stores in search of banana ice cream popsicles. He has been unbelievably good and patient. Whenever I think of it (including now), I shed a few tears. I love him so much.
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