The 1st trimester, or, a Lesson In The Art of Vomiting Gracefully.

I found out I was pregnant in mid July. For the first seven days, I felt like a million bucks. I had read on the internet that 80% of women get some form of morning sickness, but there are those few that simply get to avoid it altogether. I was confident that I would be one of those. Lucky me.

Cut to the very next day. I get up at 5:00am like every day, to take the dog (and the cats) on their morning field trip to the grass three flights down to relieve themselves. As we are all ascending back up to the apartment, I place one foot on the step and begin to put weight on my leg.

And to that, my stomach said, “Gehhhhhhhhh.”

I paused a moment, then continued. I got dizzy, a little lightheaded, even. I grasped the railing in the stairway and continued my climb, which at this point had grown from an irritating jaunt I had to repeat several times a day to climbing up a rockwall while totally hungover. By the time I made it to the top stair, my stomach was in full revolt. I was totally going to barf.

I spent most of that morning with my head on the toilet seat (bless my husband for just having cleaned it the day before). I also spent a majority of the afternoon and some of the evening that way as well.

That continued for three straight days. After a while, I just gave in to the sickness. I let the submission wash over me and resigned to my new life as a chronic regurgitator. It continued in a not-as-strong fashion for 2 more months. In fact, I still get sick every few days.

So many people were quick to give me advice – Lollipops! Crackers! Warm ginger ale! Fruit bat saliva (not really)! – I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but all of that advice can blow me. I tried EVERYTHING I could find on the internet, in magazines, even things my doctor suggested would not quell the nauseating sickness that had pervaded and made itself so comfortable in my digestive track.

I could seriously write a full on novel about all of things I threw up over the next 2.5 months. Ironically enough, it was all of the healthy, good for you foods (fruits, veggies, and whole grains) that came up fast and furious, while the not so good for you foods (Bagel Bites, cookies, chicken fingers) seemed to keep stay in my stomach longer than an hour.

But even MORE fun that what I threw up is WHERE I THREW IT UP. Oh yes, my friends, I became a public puker. Please take not that I began bringing heavy duty plastic bags most everywhere I went, so none of this is quite as gross as it sounds. That last part is a lie.

*In my car
*In Travis’ car
*In my car while driving
*In Travis’ car while driving
*In a dressing room while trying on dresses to wear to my wedding
*On the floor of the kitchen at work
*In the every bathroom stall at my work
*In every sink in our house
*Outside our apartment where the dog poops
*In 7 backyards of houses we were looking to buy
*In the landscaped island in the parking lot of a CVS
*Several public restrooms, the toilets of which you wouldn’t normally dream of putting your face anywhere near. Ever.

Now, go back to enjoying your sandwich.