Another Pregnancy Post

(Note: Not for anyone weak of constitution or in their first trimester.)

Ah, the glories of pregnancy. There are wonderful parts, really. The thumpthumpthumping of the little one under your shirt. Watching your tum roll with waves of movement. The excitement over every little baby you see and coo over thinking, "I'm going to have one of these very soon!"

But then there are other things...

I have terrible heartburn. I know why. I ate a bunch of carbs for breakfast and too little protein and now it feels like someone has dumped noxious acid, or maybe Vodka, down my esophagus and then set it on fire.

So I chew a nasty chalky antacid tablet. And the pain is instantly gone and replaced with...you guessed it...nausea. I may vomit into my trashcan. (What would you rather have? Terrible pain or the nausea-that-never-ends, much like the annoying song.)

My husband made dinner last night. A yummy combination of pasta and vegetables and chicken. It was really good. I brought some for lunch today and reheated it and the pasta and vegetables were yummy, but the chicken was not.

There was nothing wrong with the chicken. It was the same yummy chicken from last night. Except that chicken, today, is disgusting. People who eat chicken are suffering from pica. Especially the chicken in canned soups. (Ug.) I may, once again, vomit into my trashcan.

Food is either indescribably delicious or categorically disgusting. I said to my husband the other day, with a screwed up face of disgust, something like, "Ug, cookies are disgusting. I hate cookies." And he looks at me and says, "You don't hate cookies." Then I retort, "Ok. Usually I don't. But right now for this very minute, they are disgusting." This is how it is.

At the same time, I have eaten some truly wonderful things lately. Like, for instance, the best chicken sandwich of my life. (Please disregard all previous disparaging remarks about chicken.) It was the spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's and, if I could have stopped eating it, I would have built a shrine to it in the addition to my house. I have co-workers who love to go to lunch with me because I get so excited and literally clap my hands when it is lunch time. Some days I could eat and eat and eat. Ok, most days are like that.

But this is the longest the nausea has ever lasted for me. I still have to be exceptionally careful in the mornings or I will spend an absurdly long time gagging into the closest receptacle. And bodily fluids, including my own? Might as well put me to bed with a bucket. Even blowing my own nose is a... problem. To say the least. Of course, not blowing my nose? Even bigger problem. Sometimes I have to walk into a completely different room to mentally dissociate with the grossness that threatened to toss me over the edge.

Just writing this post has made me feel sick.