I hate the emotionalism and sentimentality that comes along with pregnancy for me. It's like watching some weird mental milkshake spinning around in the blender. The ingredients have become so scrambled that I can't even identify them anymore.
The gritty texture and bitter aftertaste keep gagging me, but nothing comes up. I have a serious case of the emotional dry-heaves that renders me aching and weary of worshiping such an ineffectual god.