I mentioned before that I quickly realized that being home wasn't going to be like I thought it would be.
When we first started talking about me leaving my job it was the first of the year. I resigned at the end of January, and we found out we were pregnant three weeks later. I spent nearly two months coming up with schedules and plans and meals I wanted to make. I developed a whole lot of expectations for myself, which all went up in smoke when I started feeling the effects of pregnancy.
I really don't like not having the energy to take care of my household and family. To be honest, the only thing keeping me from feeling like a failure and falling into the depths of despair is my husband.
He says things like, "Why don't you go take a nap?" instead of, "Why aren't there any clean towels anywhere in the house?" He brings me a glass of water every morning before he leaves for work so I can take my nausea meds and go back to sleep for another hour or so instead of suggesting I need to get up and get something done. He is happy with Chick Fila for dinner when I should have made the lasagna I had planned.
I know this will pass. I've been promised I'll feel better on week 14, but that's not until the end of April, and BFF Jen never did get that luxury. I'm hoping to gradually start doing a little more on days when I feel better so I don't feel so guilty on days when I can't hardly move (like today!).