So far today I have had no ill effects from yesterday’s panic, barring being a bit achy. Ended up telling OH about it last night so of course he took to google. Round ligament pain popped up which considering my movements at the time fit but the pain didn’t start from groin and work up. Anyway, I’m going to try and not think on it, or think RLP was the probable cause as worrying about it isn’t going to help nor prevent future events.

I continue to feel sick, tired and suffering headaches which alongside little sleep due to OH snoring and me weeing all night has culminated in me having the shortest temper tonight. 

This is only made worse by the constant asking of the same bloody question by OH from the second we got home. I swear there is no more annoying question in the world than “Are you alright” Or “What’s wrong” when you just want to be left alone and when it’s asked every couple of sodding minutes. THEN, after the millionth time, after exploding because the answer “Yes” and “Nothing” is obviously not enough when said a million times, he takes offence! 

Jesus Christ, what do you think the matter is? I’m pregnant, I’m bloody anxious that the baby is alright, I ache, I feel as sick as a dog all day, have blinding headaches, crippling exhaustion, can’t poo, weeing like a race horse every second of the day and all this whilst running around after,  entertaining and caring for a toddler all day whilst not showing him how awful I feel because it isn’t his fault. So I’m bloody sorry if I didn’t get round to picking up that yogurt pot he launched into the corner of the room at lunchtime seconds before I dragged him outside to get some fresh air and sunshine whilst it’s shining. I’m bloody sorry I left a pile of clothes on the bed because I had to try on every skirt I own in the vain hope I’d find one that still fits in the only five minutes I have to actually get myself ready in the morning. I am not going to apologise for you taking offence by a mood you have only made considerably worse! It’s not like it remains that way until the next day. By the time I go to bed the house is straight again, for it all to start the next day.

Gah!!!!

Rant over.

Can you tell I’m in a mood?

Is it bedtime yet?

3 days until the scan.

194 days to go.

10 million grey hairs.

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