My eighteenth week was all about the mood swings. I got a little cocky in believing  that was one way I would get a little slack, but no such luck. When I'm not unfollowing opinionated people on Facebook, or brewing irrationalities in my mind, I'm most likely dwelling on the fact that my dog is going to die someday and looking at pictures, crying, while he peacefully sleeps next to me. It's been a ride. In better news, my appetite is slowly returning. After a nausea-riddled first trimester, then other turn of events that prevented appetite, (Air conditioner dying during the hottest week yet.) I can finally eat breakfast foods and chicken (Sort of.). I've found that no matter how many pregnant people you have known or what you have read or watched, pregnancy is it's own little bag of surprises that you had no idea about. It has been a truly humbling experience so far, giving me much more respect  for the trials that will be motherhood.