Continued

"Can I do anything?" I look up at him, leaning against the sink, not even looking at me. He asked because he's *supposed* to ask, it's the polite thing to do, not because he really wants to do anything for me. He wants me to say no. I briefly consider saying yes, asking him to make me some tea or get a cool cloth for my neck. Instead I moan "no" into the toilet bowl. He looks at me as he straightens, I know I look awful, my pajamas have stains on them, I haven't washed my hair in days, my skin looks like hell. "It's just morning sickness," he says over his shoulder as he leaves my tiny bathroom, not even big enough for a tub. "I'm heading to work. And, ah, you know how tired you are at the end of the day. I probably won't be stopping by this evening. You know, let you get some rest. So I'll see you tomorrow night?" It's not really a question so I don't really answer. I hear the door close as I fill the toilet and empty my stomach once again.

*  *  *

I bury my face in my pillow as another wave of nausea hits me. I swallow hard. Morning sickness isn't supposed to be this bad, is it? It isn't supposed to last this long, right? All the blogs and mommy-pages I read  said that it should be over by the end of the first trimester, I'm well into my fourth month, shouldn't I be feeling better? I know that I should go to a doctor, find a doctor to go to, but I just don't have the money. And I'm not likely to make enough money if I have to keep calling in sick to work. For that matter, I'm not likely to have a job for long if I keep calling in sick. I yank the blanket over my head, not wanting to think about such things but it doesn't help. 

"I could ask Sam for the money for a doctor's visit," I think to myself, before quickly dismissing the idea. i don't want to ask Sam for money, he's been distant anyway, I don't want him to pull away even more. He was so excited when I first told him that I was pregnant. That surprised me. In fact, I'd waited two months to tall him because I was so afraid that he'd be mad at me, think that I was trying to "trap" him. I'd thought about an abortion but remembered that he didn't believe in "those things", so I bit the bullet and told him. He was so excited, excited about "Samuel Jr." (God, I hope it's a boy). But now, since I'd been so sick, he seemed to want nothing to do with me. 

"He'll be excited again once I start feeling better. He just doesn't like to see me not feeling well, that's why he doesn't come see me much anymore," I told myself, as I drifted off to sleep.

Starting this thing again

Maybe it'll stick this time. I do enjoy writing. I was thinking about doing a couple of book reviews, what do you think? Why, yes, I think that's a good idea. Well, thank you! I'll do that, then. I have two books in mind right now; Prozac Nation and 50 Shades of Grey (don't judge). So, I'll kind of re-read one of those and get on that. I also think I'll do a "Rikku Says" day. She's hilarious and almost everyday she says something noteworthy so we'll see how that goes. So, that's it for now. I think that if I don't just focus on writing to myself or about myself (journalism) I'll do better at this. So yeah. And, if anyone has any suggestions on where to take the little start of the story in my last post, feel free to let me know. Always open to suggestions.

In my head (beginning)

"Can I do anything?"
I look up at him, leaning against the sink, not even looking at me. He asked because he's *supposed* to ask, it's the polite thing to do, not because he really wants to do anything for me. He wants me to say no. I briefly consider saying yes, asking him to make me some tea or get a cool cloth for my neck. Instead I moan "no" into the toilet bowl.
He looks at me as he straightens, I know I look awful, my pajamas have stains on them, I haven't washed my hair in days, my skin looks like hell.
"It's just morning sickness," he says over his shoulder as he leaves my tiny bathroom, not even big enough for a tub. "I'm heading to work. And, ah, you know how tired you are at the end of the day. I probably won't be stopping by this evening. You know, let you get some rest. So I'll see you tomorrow night?"
It's not really a question so I don't really answer. I hear the door close as I fill the toilet and empty my stomach once again.

Sunflower; 6

Cinnamon Swirl Bread; 5

Kebobs; 4

The Pub; 3