shit kicked out of me

I'd like to say this kid is kicking the shit out of me, but Carl insists my body is kicking the shit out me, which is more accurate. Lohr says he's sorry for me a lot and dispenses virtual hugs, which are safer as they don't produce gagging.

Yesterday I felt really good until my shower, what I thought was shitty thereafter. Managed to get a bit of writing done, some reading, and then quite a lot of 'gaze out of the window and make desultory notes' (also writing).

Then 6 pm hit. Carl had said let's go out for dinner, and I had caved and said yes, but then he was on a call, and that led to another call, and then we agreed he would go get takeout because I couldn't move, and it was about 8 pm before anything like ordering actually happened. Then he left to get the stuff.

And all of a sudden I felt the rotation of the earth and just barely managed to make it to the bathroom and then to the bed and laid there feeling really bad for all the women in my pre-natal class with Emily who talked about morning sickness and I thought they meant what I experienced with Em, when really they meant this constant friction between solar system and stomach.

I did not, suffice it to say, eat my salad and prime rib. It's in the fridge taunting me, since I've been craving red meat, but I am Afraid.

I want to find out what I was doing differently and do that, if it's controllable. Of course I've heard it's not. But we'll see.