It's hard to know what to write right now. I am in the middle of what will probably be a longish time not feeling well. With Stinky, it took me until 18 weeks to feel good again. I'm halfway there today. While I am now on the really good anti-nausea meds, they don't do much for the soreness, fatigue, or the frustration at finding myself already needing my maternity clothes (and finding that many of them don't fit, anyway).
I don't want to complain. I am happy to do this for this child, and I will probably be happy to do it for another (anyone after that, though, we're making WBH's Christmas food baby a real one, though). I'm not unhappy that any of this is happening, but I am discouraged at what it does to my mothering.
We watch too much TV. I cook convenience foods with crappy nutritional value. My patience is shot, and I raise my voice, which I rarely did before I was pregnant. And cleaning? I busted my butt for two hours today, only to feel terrible later, and not really seeing much for the work I did. I struggle to think of the good things I did right at the end of the day, because the things I know I'm doing wrong feel like they're tipping the scales in a big way. So, I repeat the things I can be proud of like a mantra.
I am not a bad mom, I fed him, bathed him, and brushed his teeth. We left the house to ride his trike and chase squirrels at the park. I made dinner AND banana bread. I kissed every owie, real or imagined, and I didn't yell more than.... 3 times, and I only cried once. Today, that has to be enough.