THAT

Well, turns out it doesn’t much matter if you don’t want it to be THAT. Sometimes it just is. I mean, it’s not the THAT that I feared. It’s some sort of parasitic frog that has taken up residence in my rumbly and queasy parts. This THAT, however, means business, as it is busy pumping blood through its froginess at like 2 million beats per minute. Little f—er seems pretty sure, even if we’re not.

I have no idea on this earth how I will make it once that frog is big enough to get out. I’m hoping it find a way to fit in because I am so over the child-centric attachment gentle thoughtful nonsense. AND, I have today only lost the contents of my stomach three times, which is an improvement. I’ve switched the “before I get horizontal” snack from pretzels or lollies, neither of which worked, to Clif shot bloks which work much better, if only because they’re easier coming back up. And I’m now officially on an all-sports-beverage hydration plan wherein I popsicle and chilled electrolyte concoction sip (only from a straw—the doc, who turned out to be an obstetrician rather than a oncologist (ooops I guess that was wishful thinking) said somehow stuff stays down better if sipped from a straw not guzzled from a wide mouth glass…who knew). Feel queasy but MUCH better now hydrated and electrolyted. Yummy expensive kind of natural and organic beverages that I gave up after my triathlon days. Happy to be earning them again, for they are way tasty.

Seven weeks. That is both a marker or current status and a hope for when these sensations will end. For it would be nice to be excited or even pleased, but I don’t foresee that until I can go for a walk without decorating the neighbors’ lawns with bile. And there are probably about 40-50 days of massive puking in my future. Then all hell breaks loose next March.

I want that voiceover guy who does summer blockbuster movies to prepare us. “Coming soon to a blog near you. Watch if you dare…”

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19 thoughts on “THAT

  1. Oh, baby! Happy for you yet sad you are afflicted with the hurls. 5-6 more weeks and you will…awww, I’m gonna shutup with the platitudes now.

    Take care of yourself and I am awaiting updates…s/he will be a wonder.

  2. Congratulations on your upcoming frog! May it cease to nauseate you with astonishing rapidity. (what do you think– possible greeting card text?)

  3. ps: Take this for what it’s worth, but I’m Irish and sometimes get a sixth sensey thing happening. Was sitting on the patio, just sorta daydreaming, and I had this little psychic flash about you that said (1) girl and (2) march 6. Then another flash said march 3. But one or the other.

    In any case, what’s the due date?

  4. @Kitch and Sindy and NDM thanks, ladies. I’m counting on your blogs to get me through.
    @Melissa, clearly you have a new career in greeting card writing (seriously, don’t bother. pay’s nil. get into romance novels.)
    @Norm from your keyboard to froggie’s ears. Wouldn’t that be lovely.
    @Ink Interesting. Definitely within the 38-42 we humanoids consider full term. Consider your bet for the pool taken. ;-)

  5. Many congratulations on the not-so-surprise tadpole! And there was me convinced you were going to announce gallstones after all… Hope the hurl-a-thon passes soon so you have a bit more of a chance to get to the exicted/scared/overwhelmed part without a mass evacuation of bodily fluids getting in the way of all the neccessary mental adjustment.

    I reckon once you get your head round this (and your stomach) it’s going to be completely brilliant.
    x

  6. I’ll come up and frogsit and peanut sit!
    Congradulations!
    When I was pregnant with Sean, I was throwing up a couple of times a day and Evan would sit outside the bathroom, pretending to vomit too. My brother thought it was hilarious. I was less then amused.
    I’ll begin praying for an easier pregnancy and an even easier baby. Maybe one of those babies that sleeps through the night in the first week.

  7. dude. just get through the next week. then the next. AT LEAST THERE’S NOT TWO up in there!!!!! woo hoo! but don’t get me wrong, two is better than one. and now you don’t have to decide. THAT did the deciding. you just get to play host to the parasite sucking the life outta you. well done, blob!

    • J, you’re my kind of parent. I’m the only other mom I know who calls ’em parasites. Some seem squeamish about referring to their rice-sized embryo as blob. There ain’t nothin’ symbiotic about this sitchiyation.

      Faemom, the image of your son pretending to puke is too sad and cute for words. Mine keeps offering lollipops because he thinks if I get one he gets one.

  8. Congrats. And also, happy I found your blog (via IS).

    It seems we have Certain Things (a lot, even) in common. (Like: I was thinking the same thing, that “Don Gately’s childhood passage makes me feel like a really lucky human being.”)

    Hope the puking is over soon ;)

  9. Major congrats come first.

    Second: Love this: “I’m hoping it find a way to fit in because I am so over the child-centric attachment gentle thoughtful nonsense.”

    Third: the barfing. Junk food: Doritoes, lots of Doritoes. Nothing nutritious. Seriously. Protein, blah blah blah, saltines, blah blah blah. In the end, it was something like watermelon, Doritoes, or salami. Don’t ask. Oh, and consult Jen, she had hyper-gravidarum (or some sh*t like that) for all three pregnancies. We both ended up taking meds. Worked some for me. Not as much for her. The barfing-all-the-time thing is bad, and so is the feeling-like-you’re-going-to-barf-all-the-time thing.

    #4: Congrats again. Because Peanuts need friends. So Yay!

    • Thanks, both momaloms. Except that I read your blog because I was so shell shocked at the thought of three kids for each of you that it was like driving by the accident have to take a peek kind of thing. I need tutors, ladies.

  10. Uh, that’s hyperemesis gravidarum. You kinda skipped the most important part. EMESIS. Anyway, just consume what seems good at the time (and remember that it might all come back up). I went through a mashed potato phase. A very long Ocean Spray Ruby Red Grapefruit Juice (Cocktail) phase. Definitely Cool Ranch Doritos. Oh, am I making you barfy with this? Sorry. Hang in there!

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