It's all your fault!

I try to remind myself that this is suppose to be a happy time. I should be joyous and glowing. However I can't seem to focus on much past the fact that I have been nauseated for four days. Everything makes it worse, nothing makes it better. I couple this with an overwhelming feeling of uselessness. I can't cook, the smell of everything makes me puke. I can't clean, the idea of bending over the very place in which I am trying so hard to avoid just to remove the "under the rim" dirt isn't comforting. I can't do the smallest task to help achieve a "neat" home. Taking a long early evening nap is the only thing that sounds appealing. Laying down anywhere at this point and not moving sounds blissful. In a episode of pure hormonal breakdown, I call the husband.

(sobbing)

me: "Are you mad at me?"

husband: "Why would I be mad at you?"

(still sobbing, and a little sniffling)

me: "Because I'm sick and can't do anything productive so you have to do everything"

husband: "Honey you can't help that your pregnant, it's not your fault"

(light bulb goes off)

me: "You right this is all your fault"

Feeling considerably better in light of my condition, I hang up the phone and order a pizza.