I've gotten migraines on and off since puberty. They were a pain (get it?), sure, but they didn't really interfere with my life all that much. I got exactly zero while I was pregnant with Nora, but since she's been born, I've had probably 5,000. No exaggeration.
Actually, last week, I thought I'd start keeping a headache diary, in case I actually do go see some sort of medical professional about this problem. I've had 1 migraine a week for the last 4 weeks. Most of them are at night, so I can still sort of function during the day. (And by function, I mean I can put Nora in the swing and set it to high while Lillian watches 10 hours of Super Why!, the new favorite that has toppled the long-standing-favorite status of Little Einsteins, while I die on the couch.)
I've used up all the narcotics that I had left over from my delivery and have moved back to the old stand-by of Diet Coke and 2 Tylenol. I hate it. I hate everything about it. At least it isn't as bad as my sister, who got a migraine while in labor. Yes. That is the worst possible thing that could happen to anyone ever.
But, Nora slept through the night last night for the first time. So that was nice.