10 Weeks?

That's where the calendar says I'm at. 10 weeks pregnant. If that's not the most surreal thing I've ever typed here, I don't know what is.

I'm discovering another problem with my infertility experience. I'm not suggesting this is a problem EVERYONE would encounter. Just one that I am, and I'm struggling with it. So, I figure if I am, someone else may, too. And this whole community thing is supposed to be about sharing experiences and all that, so here goes.

My 5 and a half years of infertility and one BIG, GIANT EFFECT (well, one that is bothering me NOW, anyway), and that is it allowed me to over romanticize the whole notion of pregnancy.

Granted, I did get to take the surprise test, and make the surprise announcements. And, truth be told, that was pretty "sunshine and roses and fairy-tale-esque" (I'm gagging myself, so I'm sorry).

But, in those 65 ish months of trying, of WANTING this, I was able to completely gloss over the possibility that IF I were to get pregnant, perhaps I would be one of those women that pregnancy wouldn't agree with.

And - it turns out - I am.

I'm not violently ill or anything. I'm still able to work (most of the time, a full day, too). I completely and fully recognize that it could be SO. MUCH. WORSE.

I also recognize that I am sounding like one of those ungrateful bitches that we all love to bash, but dammit, its my blog, and I'll whine if I want to.

I guess the best way I can explain my symptoms is that it's like I've been on the verge of some kind of stomach virus.... for 5 weeks now. I'm tired and achey (and whiney!) and nauseated, and feel like I should never ever be more than about 5 steps away from a place that I could "shout groceries" in private. Fortunately there hasn't been a whole lot of actual grocery shouting, but to feel on the verge - all the damn time - is a less than ideal way to live.

Gah... waaaah waaaah bitch bitch moan moan... I'm tired of writing this, I can't imagine how sick you are of reading it.

Preggo-bitch, Out!