"Cause I'm sick and tired of always being sick and tired.."

Okay, Blogworld--here's the scoop and I'm hoping that this emotional diarrhea won't somehow trigger the Universe into taking it all away in one fell swoop (which is highly possible) but kids, this sucks and after all, what is a blog for if not to expose ourselves to our friends/family and the world in general? So here you go:
I'm pregnant. It's still REALLY early--only 6 weeks--and anything is possible so I'm trying really hard to think positive thoughts and be grateful because we've tried for so long to get to this point. But can I just tell you--holy crap this sucks! While childbirth is in NO way a faint memory, all of this stuff had been shoved to the back of my subconscious, I think so that I would be tricked into wanting another baby so bad it hurt. But this is the current state of things: I am BEYOND hormonal. We've just moved into a stinky house. Moving involves boxes, usually heavier than the 10-15 lbs I'm allowed to lift. So I watched while our friends and family moved all my crap out of one house and into the next. Random Piece o' Peggy Trivia: I hate boxes. I hate packing them and I hate living out of them. However, I pretty consistently feel like I've been hit by a bus so I have ZERO energy to unpack the boxes that pepper this new stinky house (which, obviously, in its stinkiness poses problems of its own!). I spend the days equal parts exhausted to the bone and so nauseated that the thought of eating anything makes me want to die. Of course, not eating when nauseated=dry heaves which, after a previous pregnancy resulting in a weak bladder=me laying on the bathroom floor--simultaneously sobbing, heaving, sometimes barfing, and wetting myself. Are you seriously kidding me???? Now, lest you think I'm nothing but a cranky complainer, let me tell you that I'm so grateful to be pregnant. It wasn't easy and I'm really quite excited to meet this little bean that is now causing so much grief. Jack is so excited and Scott is, of course, over the moon. (Although he says it's going to be our last child because he can't handle it!) Jack and I were talking about it one night and I asked if he was excited to be a brother. He said "You have my little brother in your tummy and I have my little sister in my tummy!" I kind of laughed and said, "Well, you know, Buddy...only mommies can have babies in their tummies." He paused and whispered, "But I ate some magic green beans and now I have my baby sister in MY tummy!" What a weird kid. What weird green beans!
So the moral of the story is that while I am good and thankful and would be beyond distraught if anything horrible were to happen, most days finds me rolling on the bathroom floor thinking that death is near but wishing it would come sooner!
Pray for me, people. And keep your fingers crossed that my cute husband doesn't have a total and complete nervous breakdown before the Pinesol fumes he's been inhaling while scrubbing down our walls cause him to pass out, whacking his head on the corner of the buffet rendering him blissfully unconscious for the next 2 1/2 months of my own personal hell (also referred to as "The First Trimester.")
That is all. More positive stuff tomorrow--I hate to be such a downer!