Yesterday, feeling completely nauseous in a prelude to what I thought what be a puke fest, I murmured on the couch under my baby blanket (I have a pink and yellow and Jordan has assumed ownership of my yellow so I'm stuck with the pink one that is falling apart) as I kept swallowing, hoping it would keep everything down. At the peak of my discomfort, I ran into the bathroom, confident I was about to puke. I lifted the toilet seat, gathered my hair in a ponytail in the back, and as I leaned forward.... the toilet seat smacked me on the nose. Shocked, taken aback, and completely repulsed by the fact that Andy has not cleaned the bathroom in more than a week (despite my constant
I cannot wait for second trimester. And I know I don't have it as bad as some girls, so I should really be grateful, which I am. But it still hurts. My nose and pride that is.