I haven’t written in two months. I haven’t had the appetite for it. The thought of sitting at the computer and typing out words and sentences makes me feel physically sick.
There’s a reason for it. Back in June, we applied for a 3-bedroom apartment. Writing helped me relieve the stress of that anxiety. But a few days later, I started to feel tired and had a mild stomachache. Brett thought I might be pregnant. I wasn’t so sure, but I let him buy some tests.
Guess which one of us was right?
It was OK at first. I was just exhausted and started sleeping in, which meant sleeping through my allotted writing time. Soon, though, I started experiencing the same 24-hour nausea I had with pregnancies 2 and 3, with the vomiting of pregnancy 1, times 10. My appetite slowly declined and I’m lucky if I get half the calories I need every day. On top of my health concerns, we got the apartment and had less than a month to pack up our old place and move everything into our new one. Writing has not been at the top of my list of priorities.
During my first pregnancy, I noticed a strange symptom that no one else seems to talk about. Not only does my appetite for food change, but so does my appetite for pastimes, such as reading, writing, and watching TV and movies. The story idea I started to research and outline a few months ago no longer interests me. I have no desire to read fantasy books and would rather read classics—if I feel like reading anything at all. In the evening, I would rather sit in the quiet of my room than watch a favorite show. The Writing Community on social media is overwhelming, so I haven’t been participating as much or making the writer connections I was making before. I’m questioning everything from my stories to my methods to where I want it all to lead.
Now, though, at week 14, I’m starting to get a little bit of my energy back, feeling less sick, and feeling the first discernible flutters of baby movement. I have ideas for stories and blog posts. When I’m trying to fall asleep, I’ve started playing a new book in my head, though I haven’t written anything down yet. I want to keep playing with it mentally and see where it goes, like I used to do with story ideas. But even my text and email messages are rusty. Hopefully, I’ll be back to my old self again soon—until the 3rd trimester.
