Yes you're losing an uphill battle.
My XH was exactly the same.
I could have written this post.
He'd have these shits that would scatterblast the toilet and I'd have to put my head in THAT.
The stench of bleach made my sickness worse, but I had to bleach the toilet and give it a scrub usually after the first bout of sickness when looking at the pebble dashed bowl finally made me finish retching.
I have no idea why, but my XH chose my pregnancy to conveniently forget how to flush the toilet as well, for the entire 9 months. So sometimes I'd be greeted to a fucking turd as well.
In hindsight I'm positive it was intentional considering he turned out to be an alcoholic abusive arsehole.
He never cleaned the kitchen, so there was a smell in the kitchen that I could smell that made me feel sick.
He'd put stuff on top of the cupboards. I'm 5 foot tall, and there was no way I was getting on the countertops to find out what was up there. He insisted he couldn't smell it.
It kept me out of the kitchen for a long time, because our bathroom was 2 floors up and I would not have made it in time if I needed to vom.
I didn't get much sympathy from any one. I was always told why can't YOU clean up, why can't YOU wash your clothes, why can't YOU cook.
I was sick every day until I had my C section and did so much abdominal and pelvic damage I flooded the floors with urine from the pressure of being sick even if I worse tena lady super absorbent adult nappies.
I'd lay on the sofa from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to bed with very little movement because moving made my sickness worse even though I'd gone through so many different anti emetics.
I asked that we had no smelly foods in the house, because it was making me so sick I feared for my health, but he chose to fixate on nduja sausage pizza, or Chinese takeaway and not take the rubbish out until the next morning so the entire house stunk. Or salt and vinegar crisps which he had never eaten in the 8 years we had been together. He called me controlling when I broke down in tears because he chose to eat this food when he knew I was so sensitive to it.
There was a chap at work who smelled like he'd just rolled around in an ashtray and that really triggered my sickness too, and there were no ladies bathrooms on my floor, and I'd been expressly forbidden from using the bins because it's biohazardous content and the cleaners aren't trained to handle it.
I complained to my line manager, also a smoker, who said nothing could be done about it.
So it felt like neither home or work were safe spaces for me.
We never had any clean towels because I had to shove one between my legs while I had my head in the bowl, unless I was lucky enough to get sat on the toilet and pick the bucket up first.
I couldn't carry our wash basket down 2 flights of stairs to the washer because I had SPD from 9 weeks and my legs decided that suddenly I could do the splits without any fair warning.
He outright refused to touch anything that may have come into contact with urine, but completely expected me to scrub the shit stained toilet after he'd been, and flush his waste.
His drinking didn't stop.
When our son was about a year old I asked him to wake up from a beer induced nap and get my a towel for our sons bathtime and the first thing he said was a threat to my life. When I got scared and started messaging my mum he got physical and took my phone away because he didn't want me to tell any one and I ended up being choked.
I know this is so extreme compared to your situation but I cannot help seeing so many red flags and it's probably a projection but I just do not believe a drink dad can be a good dad in any capacity. The bar is so low for men.