I've calmed down slightly from last week. We've opened a whole new can of worms, unrelated to my pregnancy. In a nutshell, the result of last week's lead paint turmoil is that the blood tests came back fine, for which I am eternally grateful. Thus, my fears of having hurt my children have lessened. Still, my desire to move as quickly as possible to prevent future problems is strong.
Enter the can of worms. We've been renting our current residence at a wonderful rate. We're not finding anything else of this size (and it's not big) within our budget. We're trying to stretch the finances as much as possible, yet it just doesn't make sense to throw away any more money each month on rent. One very kind real estate agent suggested we look into buying a home and set us up with a promising mortgage lender. Somehow between the two of them we've become convinced that home ownership doesn't have to be the anticipated 5 to 10 years down the road for us. So, we packed Jacob into the car (every day this week) and drove from house to house … hunting.
Perhaps the stress of needing to move unexpectedly and the fear of becoming first time homebuyers has contributed to my new state of pregnancy. Nausea now rears its ugly head without warning throughout the day. Sleep has become even more restless and uncomfortable. I have no desire to eat --anything -- or the desire to socialize with anyone.
I love my husband dearly, but recently I've found, as I did when pregnant with Jacob, that the mere thought of intimate touching -- even a simple backrub -- sounds like work. And the thought of having someone that close to me only intensifies the nauseous feelings. Between the new stresses in our lives, the fact that I feel terrible, and the lack of sleep, the best I can hope for is a tender hug, a goodnight kiss and a warm bed. As awful as it sounds, I'm really quite indifferent to the whole thing.