I blocked facebook (I shoulder surf on Noah’s account–I know a bunch of people who are sick with cancer and facebook is how I find out about them) and twitter on my computer. My memory of pregnancy is that my arms are going to buuuuuuuuuurn like fire. No more social media.

I revamped my pill box again. I took out all of the Tylenol PMs I’ve been using in the absence of genuine sleeping pills. I pray for pregnancy exhaustion.

I’m grateful that I’ve made progress on reducing my pot usage. At this point I feel very comfortable with my level of usage. Is it perfect/ideal? No. But mental illness is rarely ideal.

I’m really thrilled about how exercise is going. We are getting regular again. We are walking many days a week. We bike at least once and often several times a week. Noah and I are trying to do some running. Summer is coming and we have season passes to the water park. It’s a 30 minute bike ride away. We have like 7 more dance classes. I have 4 more sessions with my trainer. I won’t be continuing with dance or training through the rest of the pregnancy.

My massage therapists are on hold until the second trimester. Both of them are completely paranoid about first trimester massage. Given that I miscarried twice after massages… I’m ok with this paranoia. I’ll be careful with anyone touching my ankles or lower back.

Things are going much better with home schooling. I laid down the law with the kids “It will be this way or you will go to school” and all of a sudden they are super fucking compliant. They want to be home with me really bad. That’s wonderful. But I need to not have to baby you all day long if I’m having a baby. I can’t baby big kids any more. Both kids have been showing up and doing their chores and academics with one, maybe two prompts in the morning. We have been doing really well at getting everything done by 11am. I’m excited. They want to be with me; they want to jump through the hoops I’m putting in front of them. As a former public school teacher I find this startling. They want to please me in a way I have rarely ever seen a child want to please adults. It’s surprising every day.

I am not yet to a point where I am keeping my house as clean as I want and it’s bothering me a lot. It isn’t really any one else holding up my work. I’ve been struggling with my own internal motivation. I’ve been feeling sad and withdrawn and like I don’t want to keep pursuing friendships. I feel like I should run away and start again with people who haven’t already proven that they have limits. I mean, my friends are better than I deserve. I know that. But I’m feeling really sad and like the problems I have are all my fault and I should go where people are not already sick of my stupid ass. Almost every time I’ve seen someone lately I’ve felt like I said everything wrong and I was horribly offensive and stupid and rude and judgmental and I should be silenced.

I feel so wrong. I’ve been thinking it was PMDD but now that I’m pregnant… I’m just a self hating mother fucker.

I feel like I’m failing everyone in every way.

I’m barely keeping up with my garden. I feel so weary and useless.

I’m struggling with my cat and her decline. This feels so sad.

I’m kinda freaking out about all the death right now; I feel like I am failing all of these people who need more support and I’m not providing it.

I feel guilty that I’m not supporting my neighbors more because I know they need support and I’m feeling empty.

And at the same time I feel overwhelmed with elation because I’m going to have a baby. I get to meet another little person who isn’t going to hate me and see me as useless. They won’t see me as wrong and bad in the way other people do. They wouldn’t prefer that I die.