That what we've nicknamed the baby. Barf. This is because approximately every 15 minutes, I can be heard muttering the word, "Barf." under my breath as the waves of nausea wash over me. I didn't adopt this habit with the other two pregnancies, but I just can't seem to help myself this time. Something about actually saying the word while I'm feeling it makes me feel every so slightly better. j

Tom keeps reminding me it will pass. And I know this. But that doesn't change the fact that I have some absolutely miserable days. Yesterday? Awesome. Today? Barf all day.

Baby Barf. Kinda cute, no? ;)

Ben got a huge kick out of me telling him that the baby was NOT being very nice to me today and when I commented that the baby hadn't liked a food I had just sent down to it. At first he seemed totally weirded out by all this but he seems to be warming up to the idea that there is a living thing in my belly.

Simon lately likes to come up and poke me in the stomach and ask, "What's in there?"

The answer now is, "Barf."