Morning sickness -- probably one of the most contradictory side effects of pregnancy. Everything about it just flat-out doesn't make sense. Many women spend the first couple of weeks of the pregnancy hoping to feel the first fledglings of nausea so that they have some palpable proof (other than the positive pregnancy test) that they are, indeed, really carrying life.

But as soon as those knees hit the floor as they're bowed in gastric reverence to the porcelain god, many women start praying like all heck that the first trimester passes by at the speed of light. Of course that leads to the contradictory revelation that the sicker you are, that's the slower time seems to move, so the first trimester ends up looking like some unsurpassable mountain of which you'll never reach the top. But then there's another contradiction -- as much as I've seen women pray that the morning sickness will let up, as soon as it does, they begin panicking that there's something wrong with the baby. Of course, this fear isn't completely irrational, as sometimes in early pregnancy, a sudden disappearance of morning sickness can sometimes indicate that the worst has happened. But in most instances, disappearance of morning sickness is nothing to worry about, be it in early pregnancy or late pregnancy, thank God. Fears or no fears -- I'm sick as a dog, and I find myself staring at the calendar, counting down the days until I'm out of what's shaping up to be a rather horrid first trimester.

As you all know, I started puking at the very start of my sixth week. This, in and of itself, makes me wonder if perhaps maybe the ultrasound tech missed a baby when she did the first scan. When I was pregnant with the twins, I began getting terribly sick in the middle of my 6th week, and I puked at least three times a day (sometimes more) up until the 16th week. Even when I wasn't actually tossing up the previous meal, I was wracked by 24/7 ongoing nausea that constantly had me debating whether or not I needed to drop whatever it was I was doing and run to the bathroom.

My morning sickness was so terrible, that I'd awake in the middle of the night with the sudden urge to vomit. After not being able to make it to the bathroom on the other side of the house twice in a row, I bought a huge Rubbermaid bucket, which I lovingly called my "Puke Bucket." So at 2 a.m. when my guts had to let loose, I'd simply roll over and let it fly, then wake Frank to go dump and clean out the bucket. No, it wasn't glorious, but Frank, bless his heart, never complained and was more than happy to be on puke patrol. As sick as I was through the pregnancy, I never took medication. My OB gave me a prescription for Zofran if I felt the m/s got too difficult, but being the steel-willed first-time mother that I was, I absolutely refused to take it, vowing to get the prescription filled only if I went more than 24 hours without being able to hold at least water down. Though I was terribly ill and was sometimes reduced to a babbling near-catatonic state, I made it through that phase without taking more than a couple teaspoonfuls of over-the-counter Emetrol, which my OB said would help curb the nausea.

My singleton pregnancy with Jordan, on the other hand, was a walk through a sunshine-filled park. I didn't get even the slightest hints of nausea until around my tenth week, and even then, if I ate something at least every couple of hours, I could keep that feeling at bay. I only threw up three times in the whole first trimester, and the m/s was completely gone by the time I hit my 12th week. Three weeks of morning sickess? How naive I was to be suckered into believing that my singleton pregnancies would be just as simple as it was with Jordan.

But here I am, in my 8th week of my second (apparent) singleton pregnancy, and I feel just as bad as I did with the twins. Everything stinks, and all of those noxious smells trigger my gag reflex. I walk around breathing through my mouth just to try to avoid sniffing something that may set the upchuck timer on my tummy. When I say everything stinks, I mean EVERYTHING. Laundry detergent, our current selection of body wash, bread, the mint gum my students sneak into the classroom -- everything is an enemy. Seeing as how the one domestic bone that Frank lacks is the motivation to do laundry, that chore usually falls on me to complete. As of now, I dread going into the laundry room and being bombarded by all of those "clean" smells, for fear that I might accidentally hallucinate a toilet as I look in the washer. I mean, hey -- they're both white, water circles in, and water spins out -- who knows what the morning sickness crazies will have me seeing?

Thus far, this pregnancy more closely mirrors my pregnancy with the twins than with Jordan. I'm tired far more than I was with Jordan and I'm sicker than with Jordan. Either there's a hidden twin somewhere in here, or I'm living proof of the old wives' tale that baby girls will make an expectant mother sicker than baby boys will. Or...what if I'm pregnant with twin girls this time around and my morning sickness is twice as bad as it was with my boy/girl twins because there will be two girls?

Heaven help us -- our laundry won't get done until after I deliver if that turns out to be true.

Much love,
a very sick (and perhaps slightly insane) Kym :)


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