I hate being pregnant.

I love my daughter and I can't wait to meet her and I would suffer anything for her. But that being said, I now hate being pregnant. I vented to the universe once on here and asked what it is that I've done to deserve such a shitty pregnancy and I didn't get any answers. Just when I thought that things really, truly couldn't not get any more awful, I get proven wrong again. PUPPS (Pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy - look it up on google, tons of fun) shows up. At first I thought it was just my tummy being irritated from being stretched so ridiculously tight but then the itching started and each day I have watched it spread from my tummy, to my chest, to my arms, to my hips, and today it engulfed my thighs. I can only liken it to having 10,000 mosquito bites but I really think this is itchier than any bug bite I've ever had. I went to the doctor on Tuesday and had to see our PA because Dr. H was in a delivery. She prescribed me Atarax for the itching and some horrendous powder that is supposed to "bind" the bile that is causing this mess. After a long discussion with the pharmacist I chose not to take the meds. The powder interacts with other pills and I worry that it'll counteract my anti-contraction pills. The Atarax is heavy duty and I feel guilty taking it no matter how miserable I am. I don't want to drug my child. So I sit here, in tears, hoping that my friend (and also doctor) calls me and has some naturopathic way to help this. I'd take anything just about now - a dip in a tub of acid sounds more appealing than sitting on the couch like this for another 5 weeks.

Remind that next time I want to get pregnant to look into a surrogate. Obviously I was not meant to reproduce.