As I sit here ignoring my ravenous hunger in between bouts of throwing up anything my stomach can find (seriously where is it even coming from?!), I can't help wondering if it'll ever be over. Yes I know I've only got five weeks left to due date, but after spending eight straight months sicker than I've ever been it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Don't misunderstand me. I wanted this pregnancy and I LOVE my coming son, but will I ever be happy when he is out! 

The sinusitis has moved to my chest. The coughing makes the vomiting worse. My abdominal muscles are already so tired and sore I have no idea where I'm going to find the strength to push! 

Today my husband is home from work also sick and so is my seven year old daughter. For some reason their illnesses are more "severe" than mine. You know how men are. A simple cold is death. Never mind the eight month pregnant wife that's been sick forever and still manages to take care of everything around the house and keep the seven year old alive. He can't leave the bed, he might die. 

So up and about I am, cleaning and rearranging the nursery. I've been nesting all week. No matter how bad I hurt or sick I am I can't seem to sit still without going mentally insane from the things I need to do! 

I almost forgot to mention our new dog. The dog I insisted I did not want right now as I know I will be the one taking care of him and not only am I half dead but I certainly don't want the extra responsibility on top of a newborn baby! As I sit outside watching Carl the dog explore the yard, I wonder how I ended up here. Maybe I'm too nice. Carl was on the kill list of our local shelter this week and my husband knows how I feel about that. Needless to say I didn't argue as much as I should have bc I am a bleeding heart. In the five days we have had him I have done every walk and every feeding and cleaned every accident. I didn't want this responsibility. 

Am I wrong to feel ignored? I feel like my misery doesn't matter to my family at all. Mostly my husband. My daughter is seven and has ASD and bless her sweet soul she at least is thankful for the things I do. But the hubby. Ugh. I ask for help and get told he needs a few minutes that turns into days and I end up doing it alone anyway. Just this week I've built three beds, hung shelves, and decorated the nursery and my daughters new bedroom. Doctors orders say no lifting over five pounds, no bending or squatting, no extreme exercise at all. But if I don't do these things the house will never be ready for baby William! Since Friday I've been asking for help getting our mountains of clothing into my car to take to the laundry mat bc the washer has been broken all month. The baskets still sit ignored in the hallway causing my sanity to slip further everyday. I guess I'll be doing that myself today :( 

Sorry this is so long and filled with whining! I had to vent somewhere. My poor mother is probably tired of listening to me complain lol. I'm staying hopeful. The morning sickness will at least go away after birth! I can't wait to feel a little human again.