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Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Doody. That's what I feel like. The bizarre cigarette smell is getting stronger and more bothersome. I feel sick all the time, but this nausea is enough of a low-grade that the pukes are somewhat controllable with food and such.

I'm working on week 32. A precious friend and fellow HGer lost her son at 32 weeks. I always think about that at 32 weeks. I know not to apply it to my situation, but I do think about it.

Ok, journaling is going to have to wait until tomorrow. Itty-bitty is enjoying Spring Break and just got a Siamese twin strawberry in his fruit bowl. He is begging me to sign off so he can call Daddy and tell him about the discovery of such a treasure.

Ripley would be proud.

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