Symptoms, I mean.
On Tuesday, I had my worst day yet in the nausea department. I felt faint in the shower, had to take a time out several times during my getting-ready regimen (note to self: flipping head upside-down to blow dry whilst nauseated is not a good strategy), and barely kept it together at work by keeping a constant stream of small bits of food doing down the hatch. I got a little panicky: if this is what the nausea feels like at 6w5d, how barfalicious am I going to be at 8w?
Yesterday, I felt better. So of course I panicked. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? The throbbing boobs and extreme fatigue weren't enough -- why didn't I want to hurl?!?
Well, ask and you shall receive. I spent two hours in the middle of the night last night taking shallow breaths and wandering desolately back and forth between the bed and the toilet. No barfing, but still. Yuck. And today I am struggling -- physically with the nausea, and psychologically with the fact that my office is under construction and only available ladies room is on another floor on the opposite end of the building. There's no way I'm making it if Senor Barfy decides to come out and play.
Tomorrow, I will undoubtedly be back to obsess over the fact that I feel fine. You really can't win on this blog!
Oh, and a note on poop: thanks to everyone for their suggestions and commiseration. I seem to be winning the battle at the moment with a combination of Jamba Juice smoothies with a Flax n' Fiber boost (I love the way the guy behind the counter looks at me when I order this EVERY MORNING -- he probably wishes I would exit the store butt first), lots of fresh fruit and water, and a variety of fiber bars and cereals.
So, one out of four major symptoms under control. If I were a baseball player with that kind of average, I'd get sent down to Triple-A, but at this point I'll take it.