July 9. I haven't written a blog entry for a while for a few reasons. In June there was a lot going on. On June 10, Dave and I got married. A little before that we discovered that I am pregnant. I was finishing up a school term in June. And on June 24 the Southern Alberta Art Gallery opened the group show, Current, in which there is a Human Body Project installation.
Joy, joy, joy, the wedding was great. Becoming pregnant WAS great. But, oh my GOD, since right around June 24, I have been so sick I am beyond miserable. I wanted to savour creating life in my body, celebrate that I'm going to be a mommy again. Overwhelming nausea will put a damper on this sort of expectation. I feel like complete shit. I can barely cope with breathing much less looking after a kid or talking to my husband. I mean I am not functioning. I am an invalid.
Luckily I have no job at the moment. I was enrolled in a class at the U of L (I happen to be a student in the Fine Arts program at that esteemed institution... more on this some other time) but had to drop it. Instead of enjoying, I am deep, and I mean deep in the depths of self-pity. I am so sick of being sick I would like to destroy something but what?
I've written about my health before. I find it interesting how much beauty I have been able to create for myself but that last holy grail of physical health just stays out of my reach. I have also written about how I understand on some level that my health problems are spiritually related, both in terms of my own core beliefs and in terms of what my healer, Betty, says is my job of moving energy for other people. Bring it on, I said.
FUCK that. After I write this I'm going downstairs to beat up the bed. (Use a yoga mat; it feels like a whip and a bat. Hit something not animate; I use the bed in the basement. It feels like you're beating someone to shit without actually beating someone to shit.) What the fuck, it beats the self-pity I've been wallowing in (along with my nausea) for the last few weeks.
(Aside: while I've been advised by many people not to swear so much in my writing for this project I just don't give a fuck at the moment.)
I don't buy that it's "normal" for women to get debilitatingly nauseous in the first months of being pregnant. Something in our energy system/belief system contributes to this. And what Betty says, that I move energy for other people, if you felt as bad as I do as much of the time as I do, it would make sense to you too. Talk about thankless tasks. Well, fuck whoever I'm moving energy for. Move your own fucking energy, you lazy trash.
I am just flailing and struggling like a bug on a pin here. Will I go on drugs like so many helpful people suggest? There is a drug called diclectin for nausea in pregnant women. It is antihistamine-based. Antihistamines makes me pass out from grogginess. But I have an appointment with my doctor in two days and I may try it anyway.
I fucking hate this.