My morning sickness has kicked in with a vengeance now. I have that familiar juicy back of the throat feeling that can only be alleviated by either eating constantly, lying very very still in bed or taking deep breaths in wide open spaces. I had a very early scan yesterday, a routine gynae one which had been booked months ago to check on my PCOS. We saw the sac, which my husband lovingly referred to as a caterpillar, but it was too early to see a heartbeat, so we have another two weeks through which to hold our breath before a second scan will hopefully show everything's developing correctly. In the meantime, I am holding on to the sickness with both hands, embracing it, waking up and searching for it, as a secret reminder of what's going on onside. Oh, and I'm eating constantly of course.
There are three sleepless ones in my house at the moment. My husband has a virus and is finding it difficult to sleep. I have developed an intriguing ability to need to sleep on the sofa at 8 pm, finally giving up on the evening and going to bed at 9 pm, but pinging awake at various middle of the night points and being unable to switch off again. T is on another course of antibiotics for his long-term chest infection and they have turned him into the human bagpipes. He doesn't want to eat because he's windy, meaning he's hungry in the night, and the bloating is making it difficult for this committed tummy sleeper to get comfortable. He's spent most of the last two nights writhing between his two sleep-deprived parents.
Fingers crossed for some better nights soon.