***Warning: this post contains vomit-talk. Sorry 'about that.***
I was doing SO good too.
Every time I'm pregnant I think I can overcome the desire to vomit out my insides. And every pregnancy I fail.
This time, I had managed to overcome that desire by basically eating nonstop. For weeks and week. Nothing can come up if something is CONSTANTLY going down, right?
So, in the battle royal between Squishy and Myself, Myself has been triumphant for many many weeks. Longer than I had ever managed to hold on with the boys. With Oliver, I started yakking the day I found out I was pregnant and didn't stop until I was 21 weeks pregnant. That WAS NOT FUN.
This time around, the nausea had been somewhat manageable.
Today, my body double-teamed me and betrayed me utterly.
See, I had this KILLER headache last night, that was not squelched with sleep. This morning it was so so so bad that I could do nothing more than lay around with my eyes closed and my Slanket tucked around me. (Yes, Slankets are SO much better than Snuggies in case you were curious.)
ANYWAY, that meant that around 11:42 am I realized I hadn't yet eaten a thing.
Squishy decided that punishment was indeed in order (which is ridiculous if you consider the storage I have for this kid. I could fast for 40 days and 40 nights and STILL Squishy would be well-fed. What a stinker of a baby.) I went to the kitchen to procure lunch for the brood when the gagging began. As I gagged, I realized, "I can not win this one." It was tragic. I mean, I beat out the strong gagging that occurred after eating $17 donuts! (I was motivated there though, I mean, who pukes up $17 dollar donuts? NO ONE!) But the empty stomach + headache just proved to be too much.
So, once I realized I could not win, I calmly took a moment, with my hand clamped firmly against my mouth to find "the place." Fantastically (miraculously?) I had actually done the dishes the night before, the kitchen sink sufficed.
Dry heaving is not fun.
And then I ate some yogurt.
And I felt better.
Squishy- 1, Morgan- 0