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Tuesday, January 20, 2004

I haven't written for a few days. Not because anything is the matter but simply to avoid clone posts about bedside potties and related activities. Nothing much happens when you are in bed 24 hours a day.

For this diary the rule is:
No news is good news.

We are still hanging in there. Elise had a couple of slow days and then a day or so of nearly kicking my guts out. It's encouraging. Each movement cheers me on. "Hang in there, Mama."

Emotionally, I have caught myself wanting to cry a few times. I'm frustrated because my eating is dwindling even more. I'm not gaining enough weight and will probably start losing weight soon at this rate. It's all this tilted lying down. I want to get up and play with my son, get my life back, yadda, yadda, yadda. So I get frustrated, and my eyes start to well up with tears that I have no business spilling. I think back to those inhuman times in the midst of severe HG. I get sick to my stomach just recalling it. I sweat as my mind fogs over; it does not want to remember such a thing. Those days were songless. Suffering, like a cancer, consumed every aspect of my being. I couldn't even afford to be interested in anything other than getting through each moment. I hung on by a fingernail. I would rather die than know that suffering again.

Presently I have knocked over a gigantic glass of strawberry milk. It is soaking into the carpet as I type. I can't do anything about it except sign off and place a phone call to someone who will come and clean it up. If no one answers I'm going to have one sour mess in here. It serves me right for drinking strawberry milk in the first place.

This Just In

Just got an email from another HG mom who is pregnant and feels that she wants to either kill herself or end the pregnancy to make the vomiting stop. I can understand completely, and if you've been reading this diary from the start, perhaps you can understand a little bit too. Please pray for her. She is in agony and has a long way to go.

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