So anyway - hospital...

Sorry for the prolonged silence. I do have a good excuse -promise.
On Saturday last I had what can only be described as a bit of a meltdown. On the advice of doctors I stopped taking my anti-sickness tablet to see how I went.
By Monday morning I was a snivelling "I want my mammy" wreck who could not even keep water down. (It wasn't pretty - really, really unpretty).
So I was dispatched to the doctors at lunchtime and by mid afternoon I was in hospital, attached to a drip and drugged up on a new anti-sickness drug which does in fact work (when I can manage to keep it down in the first instance).
I spent 24 hours attached to a drip while three litres of saline were pumped into my body and I was encouraged to drink as much as possible. The only downside being that every time I needed to pee (which was an awful lot) I had to literally unplug my drip from the wall and push the heaviest stand in the world ever down the corridor to the tiny loo and try to pee without pulling the canula from my arm.
I shared my hospital room with several expectant mums - all of whom in early labour or ready for induction and spent an awful lot of time saying "No, no, I've 15 weeks to go. No I'm just in here cos I'm sick" and freaking out as their pains grew.
I got out of hospital on Wednesday - still dehydrated but tolerating water - and I have honestly felt the worst I ever have in my life in these past few days. I'm prone to anxiety anyway - but couple that with dehydration you end up with pretty much a 24/7 panic attack. Plus I feel so very, very weak.
Good news? I'm now lighter than I was before I got pregnant - although I'm pretty sure that's not meant to happen and at this stage I would welcome some weight gain.
Actually I would welcome being able to sit down and enjoy a decent meal - I'm hungry but very scared of vomitting so living on toast and scrambled egg where possible and averaging about 600 calories a day (which is very not enough!).
So I'm trying to get back into the spirit of writing and being positive and trying to shake this awful bad feeling I have.
I want to feel better - physically and emotionally. I want to get back to work (I miss that place - for my sins) and spend my day doing something more constructive than staring at the toilet.
And I want to start getting excited about this little babba in my tummy - who is kicking away like a good 'un to let me know she's there.