pregnancy blahs

Before I start this, let me say that I am absolutely thrilled to be pregnant and can't wait to meet he or she in six months! Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way...what the f**k is happening to my body?! Being pregnant might be one of the hardest things I've ever done. To be fair, I didn't do myself any favors by starting a new, full-time job just after finding out I'm expecting. Dragging my tired-ass out of bed every morning, fighting waves of nausea and sitting in front of a computer all day, with about half of the coffee I'm used to consuming, is not something I would recommend to anyone. All of this might be tolerable if I knew that when I crawled back home along the interstate with the rest of the corporate zombies at the end of the day, there was a giant bottle of red wine waiting for me. But the cruelest part of this whole pregnancy thing is that you can't drink. Just when you need it the most, the bottle is ripped from your swollen hands and you're left to face the whole nine months sober. I've never really heard pregnant women complain about this and I don't know if there just saintly bitches or if they're suffering silently. What I do know is that going to a party where there is alcohol and not being able to partake is my personal version of hell. I've discovered that I have very few social skills when not imbibing. I don't even know how to have a conversation without some sort of cocktail in my hand. Sad, I know, but unfortunately true.
I'll leave you with this for now, but I'll be back to explain how my boobs feel like over-inflated tires that could blow at any minute.