When I was pregnant with Huff the Babe (I’m probably going to have to start calling her something else when this Little Peanut comes, huh?) I know I had morning sickness. But now, looking back, I can’t really remember it. Maybe it’s because I blocked it out. Or maybe I just can’t remember because the space in my memory that once held onto morning sickness memories has now been overtaken by theme songs to various children’s programming (thanks a lot, Tayo.) Either way, I don’t remember being this miserable.
Granted, the morning sickness didn’t kick in full swing until 2 ½ weeks ago. And, at first, it was very light nausea. I’d eat something and it’d go away. Then I got the stomach bug and prayed for the Rapture.
All I want to do is complain 24/7 about how awful I feel, but I feel like I can’t. Some reasons are for others (i.e., no one wants to be around a Whiny Wally all the time and I know many women who would love to have morning sickness but can’t because of a variety of reasons). Some reasons, however, are because I don’t want to hear what other people have to say in response.
Yes, I know that my morning sickness means the baby is doing well and is healthy and I totally get that. I want my Little Bean to be healthy. But I also want to feel like a human so I can get stuff done. It’s so difficult to work when you’d rather be sleeping and doing chores while feeling like you may vom is pretty much the modern woman’s torture.
Every smell, odor, and scent is like a gut-punch. Even the stuff that once smelled good (lasagna, chocolate cake, coffee) makes you feel like you just rode The Texas Giant 12 times in a row without stopping.
*Raises glass of Sprite*
So here’s to the momma’s, both old and new, that have suffered with the debilitating morning sickness. Here’s to the women that breathe through their mouths as they walk through the breakroom at work so as not to smell their coworker’s stinky food. Here’s to the women that, rather than go on their lunch break, take a nap in their car and pay a cleaning service (or a family member) to scrub the bathroom. Here’s to the women that are so overcome with nausea and exhaustion during that first trimester that you turn on Doc McStuffins for your toddler so you can sleep on the couch. You are my tribe and I salute you.
*Takes a sip of Sprite and immediately feels nauseous*