Add fainting to the list of stuff that is crappy about pregnancy. I'm still waiting for the rosy glow of pregnancy to wash over me and take away all the vomit and stuffiness and sleeplessness and aches of pregnancy. The sad part is that I should have known better. It's not my first pregnancy, yet I must have revisioned alot more than I thought about being pregnant with trent. I couldn't wait to get pregnant again. Now I want to adopt a child after this one because I don't want to go through it ever again.

Maybe last time I was just blissfully unaware. Or maybe I blocked out all the bad stuff. All I know is now I am fainting, nearly burning my house down (I found out I left a gas burner running at full flame for 4 hours while everyone was out - except for the first 45 minutes when my son was in the house alone waiting for his dad) and spending alot of time whining and complaining about things I can't change. WHERE IS THE FLUFFY WONDERFULNESS OF PREGNANCY?

Okay, it's not all that bad. I don't have to carry anything anymore, people do it for me. More people hold the door open for me. More people look at me as just sad instead of insane when I faint in a department store. And it's sort of okay to have thunder thighs and demand milkshakes at all hours of the night.

But for the most part, I will be happy when it's over. And when it is over, I will be sad that it's over and ready to do it again, because I can't enjoy things when they're happening, only when I can't have them anymore.

One of the things I miss most about not being pregnant is ibuprofen. Advil, I miss you. Not like a friend misses a friend, but how a lover misses her lover. I want you inside me, making me feel good when I otherwise feel awful. I want to feel you in my mouth knowing that soon I'll feel a release and the pain will be gone, for 4 hours or so. I can't wait until we can be together again, and until then, I will dream about you.