What I Know About Barfing

Warning! This blog post is about barfing. If reading about barfing makes you barf, then you better not read it. :)

It has certainly been a long time since my last post; albeit, I have an excellent excuse: my body has been taken over by an alien life form that is sucking not only my physical juices but sapping my mental capacities as well. Ok, ok, so I'm just having a baby, but it's been tough. And it's not really how I thought it would be. I guess I thought I'd be glowing more, or smiling more or something. Maybe that part comes later? I'm only 17 weeks, so maybe I'll get to that part eventually. So what was I expecting? Here's what I thought "morning sickness" was going to be like: you wake up feeling queasy, you munch delicately on some saltine crackers till 11 am and then by lunch time you feel back to normal. Lies! All of it! Here's the truth, at least according to me: you wake up feeling like you want to die. You try every possible morning ritual known to man: eating in bed, eating first thing, waiting an hour and then eating, eating only applesauce, eating a full meal, drinking only orange juice, eating tiny bites with sips in between. You still throw it up. Then you try really hard to convince yourself that you should take a shower. You tell yourself that you're becoming the stinky kid in class and people don't sit by you on the bus anymore. You tell yourself it's been three days, and that it's really getting out of control. You end up deciding just to wipe down with a damp washcloth and put on pretty smelling lotion instead and hope it masks the odor. You then force yourself to put a bra on--it's torturous, but necessary--and squeeze into your jeans. You drive to the school bus stop with the window down trying to breath deeply and not barf in the car. You get on the bus and pray in three different languages that you will not barf on a fellow student. You have a close call, but finally escape. You sit through class with your mouth clamped shut and dive out the door when the teacher stops yakking. You make it to the bathroom. Is it a false alarm? Sometimes. You endure the bus again. You make it home. You barf. You immediately take off your bra. You crawl into bed and cry a little and feel sorry for yourself. You eat a little more applesauce. You barf again. You want to die. Somehow you live through the day till your husband comes home and it gets worse. For some reason you've developed an allergic reaction to him. He wants to hug you and your nausea doubles. It's a sad sad time for both of you. He has to make his own dinner and you try to eat some soup. You lay on the couch watching some animal show on pbs until bedtime and usually barf one last time. You can't cuddle in bed so you just hold hands and talk and wonder if tomorrow will be the same as today. You have this day every day for almost 11 weeks, then it starts to get a little better. You only throw up every now and then. You don't throw up in public anymore. You actually can eat!!! See how much fun it is to have morning sickness?

Here are some fun public bathrooms and other places I've thrown up. Some may ask, "Why on earth would you mortify yourself by barfing in public?" to which I cannot respond without mortally offending said person. If there was any possible way of avoiding it, don't you think I would have?

*Mother in law's rose bushes

*Salt Lake City airport bathroom

*San Diego airport bathroom

*Hertz car rental bathroom

*Various Disneyland bathrooms

*The pine trees by the bus stop

*Various restaurant bathrooms

*On the field outside the Spectrum on campus

So I have this elastic hair band around my wrist that has virtually become a permanent part of me because I realized that long hair and barfing are a bad combination. I'm still keeping it on at all times just in case, and I figure that if I can go a whole week without throwing up I can graduate and take it off. That will be a grand day.