Becky reminded me that I’ve gone a bit silent. Well, I think that time of quiet is nearly past, but not quite. The pregnancy nausea lifted last week, which is yay. But I’m still feeling really fatigued and brain-dead; I’ve got network-related emails building up that I *really* need to find the spoons to respond to. If any of you are reading this — I am incredibly sorry to not have gotten back to you yet. I was really hoping that today would be the day, but I got slammed by a migraine first thing this morning, atop two annoyances on Facebook from my chère Maman. She probably wasn’t trying to be annoying… I don’t really know. It’s hard to be impartial on tone when one wakes up feeling crappy!
I think there’s another migraine coming on, which suuuucks (especially when pregnancy means I can’t take codeine), but I’m still trying to keep as cheerful as possible. I might be feeling like crap, but my husband is doing worse right now. He dotes on me pretty much every day, so it’s pleasing to be able to turn the tables and take care of him. I’d prefer him to not be sick, obviously, but I feel like this is the especial time that I’m able to remember how to lock off my feeling terrible to do what I love do to — help other people.
There’s also the coming off of my meds factor which might be contributing to my spiking ire lately. We agree that, should my pregnancy follow the path set by the previous one, my mood should be stable enough for me to come off so I can have less worries about the effects on Microbutt, as well as enabling to have a home birth; hospitals stress me out so badly that I can’t make it an hour without hitting hysterical sobbing from the ‘way too fucking much stimulii’ factor. Worst comes to worst, I know the local health care proviso includes a homebirthing centre that’s the best sort of middle ground between hospitalized and not, but… we’ll see. I’m fingers crossed it will all work out. But I did know that coming off the antidepressant could be a bit difficult, so I’m going to attribute the slight spikes to that. I’m to see my psychiatrist again in the next week or two (waiting for the appointment card) to determine what the next course of action will be. I’m glad I’ve not gotten the card — my first scan of the little fetal one is Monday, so that will let me know that (hopefully) the kiddo is doing fine at 12 weeks, and is only one (ESPECIALLY only one; my broken-ass brain can’t handle twins, of this I’m sure).
So yeah, still out here somewhere, still alive. *smiles wanly* I hope everyone out there is doing well.