This morning, Christian got me out of the house.
I really needed it.
Nothing gives me relief from my nausea.
On top of my medication, I wear a patch, which really
irritates my skin and causes huge welts.
Everything is uncomfortable.
And getting out helps.
So in my PJs, Christian and I drove around while he ran errands,
and I stared out the window.
When lunch came, we grabbed a taco.
Then, when dinner came around, we ordered pizza, picked it up
and ate it in the car.
When we needed gas, Christian got me a big Coke, which
sounds so yummy, but never tastes as good as I think it will.
I am the best birth control for my children.
After seeing me pregnant and moaning and groaning all day long
they will never want to have kids.
Especially my girls.
But once baby girl is born, I will have forgotten
about all these horrible HORRIBLE days.
And that's how we women keep having children.
We forget.
It's kind of a trick.
