So far I've been dealing with a total and complete loss of appetite in this pregnancy. I'm down almost 7 pounds in the last month. The mere thought of food makes my stomach churn.
Which brings us to yesterday. I knew I was getting a little more emotional, but I thought I had managed to contain the insanity pretty well. Sure, I cry at more commercials and have to avoid watching Oprah entirely, but I seemed to be doing well. Yesterday afternoon, my darling husband was making us lunch. We had purchased salmon on Friday when we went grocery shopping, and knew that we needed to eat it on Monday before it went bad. And salmon is great for me and the developing baby. I've managed to eat it pretty well for the last few weeks. Daniel pulled the salmon out of the oven, cut it up into smaller pieces, and informed me lunch was ready. I walked over to the kitchen, looked at the salmon, smelled the fish, and burst into tears. Then I ran to the couch and laid there crying about hating food and smells and eating. Daniel stared at me in disbelief, fixed his own lunch and tried to sit as far away from me as possible.
I eventually calmed down, ate my tiny portion of fish, choked down a few veggies and regained my sanity.
My poor, poor, husband. He's in for a long 7 months.