Now we are Six.

Six weeks today. Time is starting to pass at a more regular pace. I took another "belly" shot this evening, but I have no desire to get out of bed and get the camera and cords and what have you to post it, but it will be here eventually.

I've been spending a lot of time in bed. The other day when I was apparently looking extra pathetic, Kyle suggested I take the laptop to bed with me, and here in the  bedroom it has remained. And so have I. I'm not feeling completely wretched. The morning sickness is getting progressively stronger, but I still have managed to avoid actually barfing thus far, so I think we can count that as a victory. It seems to be much easier when I am allowed to sleep in, and don't have to get up at the behest of my alarm clock.

Speaking of sleeping, I don't want to do much else. I've never been a morning person, and getting out of bed has often been a struggle for me, but I'm usually pretty good at facing the day when there are places (work) I have to be. Getting out of bed hasn't been this hard since I was a teenager, battling serious depression. Or maybe it's worse; it's hard to remember through the fog of the years.

Yesterday was my day off from work, and, I'm embarrassed to admit, I spent a good majority of it in bed. I got up a few times, to brush my teeth and take my prenatal, so fix myself a snack plate (that I could nosh on from bed, of course), and to do a single load of laundry, lest I have no clean underwear for work today. And I feel embarrassed about this, and I feel bad that my house is a mess and there are dishes to be done, and that I didn't even manage to fold that load of laundry, but I was feeling good and didn't want to, ahem, over exert myself and lose that feeling.

My work days are hard too. I manage to hold myself together okay while I'm there, because I have to, but it takes a lot of energy to think and stand and wear pants and to just be and when I get home I just collapse, often literally.

I hope this lifts soon. I wonder often if maybe it's all in my head, if maybe it's not really that bad--I know there are pregnant women that have it worse than me, women who are actually vomiting, perhaps, women who already have children that they have to chase around, tired or not, yet all I can to is fall into be at 3 'o clock in the afternoon.

It will be all right, I suppose. I should try not to feel too bad about how pathetic I've become. I supposed I'd rather err on the side of caution anyway.I do, though, hope I get my sea legs somewhere in the next couple of weeks, because I truly do not want to sleep away my France trip and my sister time. I miss her desperately. More so now also because she is somebody's auntie.