This is like that. If your rolling your eyes and thinking "Lawd, I hope this isn't anther depressing HG post" ... well, sorry. Come back in like a year, I might be done by then. Right now it's rather consuming.
I'm presently waiting for doctor authorization and insurance approval for another round of continual IVs and a new medication for my pump. I feel like I got run over by a semi and have not kept food or liquid down with much success for .... a while. Time is a blurry thing. And I am bored.
First Circle: Fantasizing about the food I will eat when I can, simultaneously gagging at the thought of the food I cannot possibly eat now.
Here your punishment is dreaming about all the stuff you want to eat. You can't do this all of the time, but when the waves of nausea abate enough that you find yourself with the energy and ability to dream of "normal" you let your mind wander to all the stuff you will binge on once you won't automatically vomit at the site of food. Of course, these fantasies make you puke ... and the cycle continues...
Second Circle: Sobbing over anything because I'm pregnant and that happens, then sobbing because tears are a huge waste of hydration.
Hormones tearing through you at nine thousand miles an hour, you find yourself moved to "ugly cry" over a video your perpetually single facebook friend shared of her cat. You hate her cat, but suddenly it is the most breathtakingly adorable thing ever and you find yourself weeping with the sheer overwhelming flood of emotions Mr. Twinkie buries you in. Then you realize that you are weeping out the shit that is probably dripping into your arm via IV because you haven't been able to drink in ... a while. So you cry over the senseless waste. Spilling more tears. And that cycle continues too.
Third Circle: Philosophizing about which is better -- dry heaving or actually puking.
Its a toss up sometimes. The dry heaves are violent, because your body is as determined as a three year old in a tantrum to complete the job. But for whatever reason, you can't *ahem* get it up. Irony, no? Anyway, puking sucks. Dry heaves suck too. When you do both so often that you find yourself critically analyzing which is harder on you, you really have hit a new level of pathetic.
Fourth Circle: I watched Dora, Team Umizoomi, and Paw Patrol with the kid not in the room because the remote was too far away and energy is a precious commodity.
Seriously, that is an hour and a half of my life I will never have back.
Fifth Circle: I am like a dog ... I just want to take a ride in the car.
Sun light. Fresh air. I miss anything that isn't this house. I just want a ride in the car, but it might make me puke ...
Sixth Circle: When you can eat, you consider regurgitated texture as equal in importance to taste.
If I am going to eat, then odds are it might not all stay down. Why try something like bread or crackers when something like oatmeal or even baby food is the same regardless of if it is heading up or down? Oddly this makes it feel a little more tolerable and like less work.
My weight keeps dropping, but my tummy keeps swelling. I don't think my uterus is this big at nearly 16 weeks pregoo, so I am blaming the bloat from the side effects of Zofran (like constipation that could kill and elephant). If this wasn't enough misery, it means that my normal clothes are less than comfy, so maternity clothes are the option. Except they cover your tummy. They actually touch your belly. You know, the tummy that is sore as a mofo because of the icky infusion sit reactions I keep having. Bleh. So when you are too fat for normal clothes and too sore for maternity clothes ... mumus. God help me.
Eighth Circle: Peed my pants while vomiting.
Yup. More than once. I may even admit to this being a reoccurring problem if I was an honest person.
Ninth Circle: Peed my pants while vomiting but wish I had pooped myself because at least that means I can go.
When you are actually at a point where you are wishing you would just crap your pants ... you know its bad. Need I say more?
I didn't think so.