Sometimes it's strange what you notice.
I had one morning of nausea with Dempsey around 8 weeks. Other than the pregnancy test and the doctor telling me, I wouldn't have known I was pregnant.
But with this baby, I'm more in tune with the cause and effect. I know that my hormones have spiked. I know why I am so tired.
Yesterday, I was talking to Justin with exaggerated arm movements. I stifle an "Ow!" and proceed to see if there is a bruise on the side of my boob under my arm. "Of course there has to be a reason there is a painful spot on my boob - those things don't just hurt for no good reason," I thought to myself. Sweet Justin looks at me and says, "There's no bruise. Your mammaries are probably gearing up to become a milk factory." [that wasn't an exact, word-for-word quote, but you get the point].
Oh yeah. I forgot that these two attention-getters have a purpose other than filling out a blouse.
I woke up this morning to what felt like a gut punch. My tummy was hurting. My guts had decided to clench up into a ball. I'm happy to report that I am feeling much better by mid-day. However, my cheerios were far less appealing, as were my peanut M&Ms...
My only steady symptom so far is apathy. It's hard to fake listening to a story I have zero interest in. I will not entertain a fake smile to a lame joke. And those baskets full of laundry needing to be folded? Well, until my closet is empty, they are not my concern.