So. I am still being sick.
Like 'stop the car, I need to vomit in the hedge' sick. 'Retching as I go to lie down in bed because I'm feeling sick' sick. 'Now we've finished shagging please pass the bowl because I'm going to throw up' sick. 'Please don't make me laugh, I'll chuck up' sick.
Isn't it weird that you can really, really want something and when you get it, it's not what you expected at all?
I don't seem to be able to stop crying and feeling bad; and people's positive "you'll start to feel SO much better soon, you'll be decorating the kitchen" - type chirpy remarks are not really helping. Or the "this is so wonderful for you and B, you must be delighted, it'll all be worth it in the end" -ones, either.
I resent the baby because it's making me feel so ill. It's all I can do to drag myself round and put clean pants on in the morning. Most of the time I'm not thinking about the baby, I'm thinking of what small tasks I need to complete in the next thirty minutes and whether I'll be able to accomplish them. And then I feel guilty because I am resenting the baby and perhaps if it knows I am resenting it, it'll pack up and leave and I'll have wished myself in to (another) miscarriage.
And I am constantly worrying about money - which is a whole other story that I am not going to go in to at the moment, except to say that it does make sense to move to a smaller house if we are not going to fill this one with an instant-ready-made adoptive family.
So, lots of positive trains of thought there, then.
Also, Simpkin has started bringing in dead rabbits.
Tomorrow: Something cheerful, that doesn't involve sick.