This week I feel bloody wretched. Morning, (lunchtime, afternoon, evening, night time) sickness has ramped up a gear and I feel like I’m perpetually on that pirate ship ride at a travelling fairground. The one where you stop for a moment at the top and think you’re going to be OK, before you face another bilious plunge that sends the wind through your nostrils and out of your buttocks and truly wipes the smile off your face. I detest that bloody ride. Whilst I found some comfort in the mild nausea I experienced during the very early weeks, reassuring myself that my body was doing what it should be, I now just feel completely pestilent. Sick and tired. Literally. And a bit angry. OK, a lot angry. And then guilty for feeling angry because I should be rejoicing in the wonder and glow of blessed pregnancy. Should I fuck?! Both the morning and evening nursery runs seem to be the pinnacle of pukiness, which is super unhelpful. Possibly something to do with the exhaustion that usually accompanies these points of the day. What makes being on a constant internal bungee jump even more nauseating? Being on it whilst having to cajole the shoes and coat off a screaming 18 month old, simultaneously negotiating the terms of day release for the potato that he currently insists on taking everywhere. All this whilst giving cheery “hellos!” and suppressing a gag reflex. Urrrrghhhhh (here we go again…). Fortunately for me I am surrounded by loved ones with a clearly developed sense of empathy. My husband has also been suffering from all manner of ailments over the last few weeks, evidently in a bid to rival my high stakes rolling. I see your nausea, vomiting, tiredness, back pain, and raise you some similar minor ailments that are far bloody worse because I am a man. The ultimate kick in the tits was when he emerged from changing after work, smothered in deep heat to address his terrible back pain (/twinge), which mysteriously developed at the weekend after routinely lifting our son. Parenting is tough you know. He was able to do a 13 mile cross-country run the next day but watching Storage Hunters on the sofa is clearly agony. It is for me too. I hate that damn show. The smell of said deep heat of course made me gag and run to the toilet to be sick. Happy days. He also has a cold, so life is super difficult. Such symptoms (commonly known as “manning sickness”) can be particularly intense during the early stages of pregnancy, or the first guymester. It’s really important to help your partner through this difficult stage, ensuring they are eating healthy, nutritious food, getting enough rest and emotional support, and not getting overwhelmed by the burden of your condition. Remember that whatever you are feeling, it is likely your partner is feeling it too, so don’t mention your sore nipples… Onwards and upwards to week 10, but excuse me if I need to sit down along the way to rest and throw up.