Bring My Pregnant Butt TACOS!

I have been too busy dying to bother posting anything.
Honestly, I kind of want to punch my hippie self right in the face.
The one that so confidently says “pregnancy/birth are not illnesses, they do not belong in the hospital.”
All I feel is ill. 
I have felt like I’ve had the flu for the past 2 months.
Exhausted. I could drop into a coma at any given point during the day.
Nauseous. Any smell makes me want to hurl.
Weak. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack after carrying Mya up the stairs.
Emotional. Everything makes me want to cry or scream.
I will be done with the hell of the 1st trimester after the new year.
There is hope.

Current Updates
Me- dying.
Denny- trying to be both mom and dad.
Not so easy.
Sophie- socially starving. 
Every day she asks me for playdates with anyone she can think of.
Problem 1 – we have no car.
Problem 2 – I have zero desire to see anyone.
Mya – tiny terrorist.
Fighting any and all forms of sleep.
She has entered that state of toddlerhood where she just blankly stares at you.
“Mya, come here.” *blank stare*
“Mya. Come. Here” *blank stare*
“MYA. COME. HERE” *turns and walks away.*
It’s loads of fun.
Feel free to drop by with a bag full of tacos at any time.

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