OlivePregnancy
Friday 30 November 2012
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Things that Don’t Cure Morning Sickness
Apple Trees has been kicking my ass for the last few weeks
and no mistake.
If you have never been lucky enough to share in the joy of
full blown morning sickness and wonder what all the fuss is about, let me
enlighten you. Morning sickness is like being on a ferry in a force 10 gale
while being engulfed by the smell of week old fox poo. It isn't restricted to
mornings - whoever optimistically said it was needs taking outside to have a
word with themselves – it is a relentless day long grind.
The only consolation is that morning sickness usually skips
merrily along with abject exhaustion so at least when you crawl back home in
the evening you have the blessing of an early bedtime to ease your existence.
This is new territory to me, morning sickness, so I had no
frame of reference about what might help.
I worked out that hunger made it worse, but then (cruelly) so
did eating. So I took to grazing.
That was fine until I realised that the crackers I was
grazing on were making me so thirsty I was getting dehydrated. But drinking
made me feel even more sick.
Cutting out the crackers and just drinking water was a
blessing. Until the low temperature made my stomach go into spasm.
Fruit was heavenly, until the sheer volume I was consuming
got too much for my digestion.
Ditto milk and cheese, which had me sprinting for the
toilets in a very “I’m late for a meeting” kind of way so nobody would notice. The
fact that my boss was completely thrown when I told him my news just goes to
prove that I clearly didn't do a bad job. And it probably explains to him why
the number of meetings I’m attending seems to have tailed off so dramatically.
Ginger was amazing, not to calm my stomach but to make my
throat burn so badly I forgot about my stomach.
Hot chocolate, pretzels, no dice.
Then I had a breakthrough so biblical, so immense, that I
actually break out in a sweat when I think about spending a day without it.
Fizzy water.
Oh. HELL. yes.
I don’t know why it works, or whether my brain took my
stomach aside and said “listen mate, the joke’s gone far enough. Next thing she
tries is going to cure you. Got it?” but it works well enough to help me get
through the day without having to feel the blood drain from my face and my
stomach clench into a ball.
So this is where I declare that every penny you pay for
water with bubbles is money well spent. Anyone calling it pretentious and yuppie
gets to spend a day with me and no bubbly water.
Trust me, that is about as bad as threats get.