In the lastest edition of The Vomit Chronicles

It's getting worse everyday.

Astonishing. I had no idea that was even possible. Actually, much of today was better than expected for a long time because there was nothing in my system at all but Sprite. Lunch was sketchy. I did ok with the Easy Mac.

But the burger . . . well. You know how it is when you feel ok, and are eating something and suddenly realize mid-chew that whatever it is you are eating is not going so well? That was the rest of my lunch.

And dinner . . . oh, it's just tragic. Truly, tragic. I had some savory pastries filled with spinach/artichoke/onion/cheese mix. Sounded so divine. Smelled so divine. I actually was really looking forward to it. I thought I'd get some green for the first time in awhile.

And after the fourth bite, I knew. This was not going down without a fight. And it did not stay down.

Vomiting while you are eating dinner is just wrong. I'm sitting here now with a bowl of chicken broth, wondering if I can keep it down. The fact that DH boiled water on a burner that apparently had a spillage last use is arguing 'no' - it's just so . . . mortifying and embarrassing to have such little control and be so reliant on DH to help me and it hurts. Half the time, I just end up curling up and crying after I throw up. I hate being such a baby, but I really, really, really hate vomiting.

I keep trying to tell myself it's great that it's going strong and remaining strong, and this is what I wanted. And part of me believes that. The other part of me is just desperate for it to be over with. Not as in ending the pregnancy - God, I'll put up with hyperemesis if I have to - but just not knowing what's happening in there makes it so much worse to deal with.