Week 11! Only a few weeks to go until 2nd Trimester!

I have how many days left?

Ew. That is too loooong.

We were able to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time yesterday. Now, not the first time ever, but for the first time since I had the horrific dream that I lost the baby. Which, of course, had me worried for the 3 weeks since I had the dream, so imagine my disappointment when we couldn't hear it at first. She completed my exam, then tried again (apparently, my uterus is super-low). It worked. We heard it for a brief moment.

That was enough for me, though.

I'm starting to get some of my energy back with less bouts of nausea. Saturday, Puppy and I did some yard work. Just a few hours worth. It took me all that evening and most of Sunday to recover. My calves still hurt.

I read posts of my friends who have already had their babies. I'm sooooo jealous. I loathe this pregnancy. The pregnancy with G seemed easy (it was after he was born that it took its toll). Or perhaps I've just blocked it all out. Or how about my friend 'C' who had 3 at once. Imagine how spectacular that pregnancy was.

On my way to a customer visit today I saw a dog crossing the street. I started to cry because I thought he may get hit. I'm such an emotional tart right now.

Anyway, we're nearing my second trimester (thank all that is holy!) and I should have more ultra sound pics before we leave for vacation on the 2nd (Nashville, here we come!!!). Yes, another ultra sound. This one is looking for signs of birth defects, apparently, but I'll take any chance to see the little booger.

I put the *zzzzzz* in lazy...

I don't update my blog.

Haven't updated this one lately, either.

I sleep during most of my lunch hours at work.

I go to sleep almost as soon as I get home, wake up long enough to tuck G in, then go back to sleep.

Our "romantic" life has died. My house is a God damn pigsty.

I'm tired. All the time. I yawned during a meeting with a client the other day, and was daydreaming during a meeting with my boss yesterday.

I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm not cut out for a second kid.

I'm not thinking about the emotionally beautiful birth. I'm not thinking about bringing another life into this world. I'm not thinking about finally being able to share these moments with someone I love.

I'm thinking about the 6 weeks I'll have off of work, and all the naps I'll get to take.

Is that wrong?

I'm over this shit.

You know what? I've had just about enough of this. I'm getting a t-shirt made that says "I'm pregnant!!! Kill me."

Yesterday was okay. I wanted to join the Land of the Living, so we went to the mall yesterday, walked so I could get some exercise, let G make a Build-A-Bear (which sings Jonas Brothers songs, thank you very much) and grab a bite to eat at Claddagh's.

After a small *small* cup of soup and a few bites of potatoes, I was done. Full. Full? Even Matt suggested that "it's probably not [his] baby" if that's all I could eat.

Then, after returning home, the return of the nausea. This morning, hello again to the dizziness, the dry mouth, the exhaustion, the vomiting, the nausea, the God damn everything but the kitchen sink.

So, let the record show that I am *this* close to breaking down into tears.

And this meal, the meal from last night that is now my lunch today if I manage to keep it down, will probably cover me for the next 4 days.

I'm just before my 8th week and I'm begging for it to be over.