I may just be about rounding that corner. That corner between "hey, what's the big deal? Pregnant is easy. I think I'll have eight kids" and "oh my god this sucks I hate it more than anything get this thing OUT OF ME."
My complaint today is that my acid reflux is out of control. I should have seen this coming, and in fact I did. But it sucks nonetheless.
I can't really complain, either, because I am doing nothing to mitigate the damage. I could be wrong, but part of my problem could be the three brownies and two heart shaped box chocolates that I ate between 3pm and 7pm yesterday. Followed by a big bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce and salad with spicy Italian dressing. Followed by my daily quart of ice cream.
Let's see, I vaguely remember a conversation with my doctor a few years back, where he told me I had a choice: either take the daily Prilosec for the rest of my life, or cut out all alcohol, coffee, chocolate, tomato products, and dairy. Since I'm not an idiot OR a martyr, I picked the Prilosec.
But the trouble with pregnant is that you can't take Prilosec. So here I am, woefully eating three out of four forbidden foods at any given time and trying to control the pain with a couple of chalky Tums.
Let's just say that either I'm going to learn my lesson and start eating a little more intelligently, or I will become a REALLY cool case study for the future generation of medical students. The Lady Who Could Actually Breathe Fire.
Or else maybe they'll make an episode of House about me. That would be rad.