Vomit Tales
Morning sickness is a common, natural ailment in many pregnant women's lives. We have all heard stories of women who have had morning sickness throughout pregnancy, 7 months in, or not at all. As my mother states all too often, "I don't know what you guys are talking about, I never felt sick in any of my pregnancies!" Helpful, Mom.
Well, so far, I'm one of those women who feels nauseous all the time. I've puked twice in the first trimester and four times 2 weeks into the second. Not bad, considering. While a 3 month hangover is not what I had in mind during this time, I know it means the baby is healthy. Although sometimes, laying there on the cold bathroom tile, I do wonder if that's one of those myths they tell pregnant women to make them feel better just like telling brides that rain on their wedding day is good luck. Hopefully this kid will pop out with antibodies made of steel.
Everyone has stories about praying to the porcelain god, but not everyone shares them. I have a blog and no sense of decency. Stop here if you're weak!
The first time I regurged, Doug was in the shower and I was at the sink. I had just flossed my teeth and my toothbrush was poised laden with toothpaste, of which I was thisclose to putting in my mouth. I spit into the drain, took one look at my bloody phlegmy saliva and gacked into the sink. Right there, holding my toothbrush. I looked up at Doug, whose ghost-white face was turned towards me in an expression of absolute shock, getting pounded with shower spray. I said, “I…I just threw up in the sink.” “Uh…yeah, you did,” he acknowledged. He opened the door, poked his head out, and asked, “Anything I can do?” And then we started laughing.
Last week I tossed it immediately upon leaving the bed and again later, ALL OVER the bathroom. It was a sight to see. My towel was sitting on top of the closed toilet because I was heading into the shower and that’s where we put towels. I then decided to take my Zofran – well, the melt-in-your-mouth Zofrans are hideous and taste like a metallic fruit orchard, so that set me right off. I ran into the bathroom, couldn’t get the towel off the lid quickly enough so just vomited my breakfast directly into my towel, madly trying to fold it up so that it wouldn’t drip down the toilet onto the floor, which happened anyway. I stood up and projectiled into the sink, thinking I could keep it contained at least, but our sink always clogs up no matter how many times we Draino it, so I tried to wash it down, it didn’t really go down. But then it did. Phew. And then I was done. You know when you're done. So I stood there, with hork in my hair, on my sleeve, all over the floor, sink, toilet, towel and trash can, thinking oh sweet Lord, I can’t leave it like this. I spent about 7 minutes trying to rinse off my towel in the shower, holding it up with one hand because the other was trying to wipe off crumbs of partially-digested Cheerios and bile from the folds of this increasingly heavy water-laden towel, watching the puke kernals swirling with bits of leftover shower hair collected at the base. Finally wrestled the wet towel into an empty trash bag, tied it up and washed my hands. Got out the Clorox wipes and paper towels so that I could wipe up offending barf matter and then Clorox it into oblivion – all while gagging and wallowing in my own self-disgust and pity. Had to put all of the cleaning towels into a separate trash bag because, oh right, the trash didn’t get picked up for two more days, but I had to do something so the apartment didn’t smell like the inside of my stomach. I texted Doug at work to tell him NOT TO TOUCH the plastic bag by the trash, cleaned myself up and somehow made it into work. I got home and the bag was gone - Doug had taken the filthy towel to the laundromat so I didn't have to deal with it!
The doctor said that since I haven't finished out my morning sickness yet, likely it'll be another couple of weeks until the next common end date - 20-22 weeks. So I have about 5 more weeks to go if I'm not one of those women that continue throughout. Don't worry, however, I think this is the first and last blog entry of ralph stories, as, according to Doug, I am oversharing and we may lose our readers.
I must point out that my usually spotless bathroom is the cleanest it has EVER been.
Until the next blog entry...stay healthy my friends! And I promise not to describe the birth of this burph-inducing child. Have a great rest of your weekend!
Oh, and thank you, http://www.urbandictionary.com/, for all my upchuck alternative needs.
Well, so far, I'm one of those women who feels nauseous all the time. I've puked twice in the first trimester and four times 2 weeks into the second. Not bad, considering. While a 3 month hangover is not what I had in mind during this time, I know it means the baby is healthy. Although sometimes, laying there on the cold bathroom tile, I do wonder if that's one of those myths they tell pregnant women to make them feel better just like telling brides that rain on their wedding day is good luck. Hopefully this kid will pop out with antibodies made of steel.
Everyone has stories about praying to the porcelain god, but not everyone shares them. I have a blog and no sense of decency. Stop here if you're weak!
The first time I regurged, Doug was in the shower and I was at the sink. I had just flossed my teeth and my toothbrush was poised laden with toothpaste, of which I was thisclose to putting in my mouth. I spit into the drain, took one look at my bloody phlegmy saliva and gacked into the sink. Right there, holding my toothbrush. I looked up at Doug, whose ghost-white face was turned towards me in an expression of absolute shock, getting pounded with shower spray. I said, “I…I just threw up in the sink.” “Uh…yeah, you did,” he acknowledged. He opened the door, poked his head out, and asked, “Anything I can do?” And then we started laughing.
Last week I tossed it immediately upon leaving the bed and again later, ALL OVER the bathroom. It was a sight to see. My towel was sitting on top of the closed toilet because I was heading into the shower and that’s where we put towels. I then decided to take my Zofran – well, the melt-in-your-mouth Zofrans are hideous and taste like a metallic fruit orchard, so that set me right off. I ran into the bathroom, couldn’t get the towel off the lid quickly enough so just vomited my breakfast directly into my towel, madly trying to fold it up so that it wouldn’t drip down the toilet onto the floor, which happened anyway. I stood up and projectiled into the sink, thinking I could keep it contained at least, but our sink always clogs up no matter how many times we Draino it, so I tried to wash it down, it didn’t really go down. But then it did. Phew. And then I was done. You know when you're done. So I stood there, with hork in my hair, on my sleeve, all over the floor, sink, toilet, towel and trash can, thinking oh sweet Lord, I can’t leave it like this. I spent about 7 minutes trying to rinse off my towel in the shower, holding it up with one hand because the other was trying to wipe off crumbs of partially-digested Cheerios and bile from the folds of this increasingly heavy water-laden towel, watching the puke kernals swirling with bits of leftover shower hair collected at the base. Finally wrestled the wet towel into an empty trash bag, tied it up and washed my hands. Got out the Clorox wipes and paper towels so that I could wipe up offending barf matter and then Clorox it into oblivion – all while gagging and wallowing in my own self-disgust and pity. Had to put all of the cleaning towels into a separate trash bag because, oh right, the trash didn’t get picked up for two more days, but I had to do something so the apartment didn’t smell like the inside of my stomach. I texted Doug at work to tell him NOT TO TOUCH the plastic bag by the trash, cleaned myself up and somehow made it into work. I got home and the bag was gone - Doug had taken the filthy towel to the laundromat so I didn't have to deal with it!
The doctor said that since I haven't finished out my morning sickness yet, likely it'll be another couple of weeks until the next common end date - 20-22 weeks. So I have about 5 more weeks to go if I'm not one of those women that continue throughout. Don't worry, however, I think this is the first and last blog entry of ralph stories, as, according to Doug, I am oversharing and we may lose our readers.
I must point out that my usually spotless bathroom is the cleanest it has EVER been.
Until the next blog entry...stay healthy my friends! And I promise not to describe the birth of this burph-inducing child. Have a great rest of your weekend!
Oh, and thank you, http://www.urbandictionary.com/, for all my upchuck alternative needs.
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