Warning, you might not want to read this post.
I think I "told" three people yesterday that nausea wasn't really an issue for me anymore.
And then I rushed to the hospital to see someone before they headed into emergency surgery, squeezing this in before having to meet up with a teenager at a coffee house. I had had a splitting sinus headache all day (despite having rested well and having consumed a fair bit of water and having used the neti pot repeatedly) and finally heard back from the triage nurse at my ob/midwives office and she said I could not take the sudafed sinus headache that I have in my house, but I could use sudafed and tylenol. I had planned to pick up sudafed (challenging in a rural context these days...) and then go see the teenager, but the hospital visit crowded things so Kev agreed to pick up the meds for me. (Apparently he had to leave his name and driver's license number with the pharmacist in order to get the med that used to be given out like candy from my college's health center.) He also agreed to pick me up at the hospital and ferry me to the coffee house. He greeted me at the hospital with the sudafed (I had already taken the tylenol earlier) and a large glass of water. When I got in the car I realized I was feeling nauseous. "Great," I thought. But the headache was terrible, and the pills are so small, I had to try. But shortly after taking the first tiny pill the salivation kicked into over drive and Kev handed me an empty bag from the drug store and I hurled into it. That makes time number three for vomiting this pregnancy. Only this time I actually had something in my stomach to hurl. And... a bit of it missed the bag. GROSS.
I cleaned up as best I could and zipped up my fleece and went to meet the teen. I smelled like vomit. I ended up having Kev bring a change of shirt and jacket to the coffee shop before I went back to the hospital to be with the waiting family.
I guess this is practice for when the kid pukes all over me at an inopportune time, right?
Blech.
10 comments:
Oh you poor thing! Yes, it is great practice. My children have both been spit-up champions. Annalivia was breast-fed and it smelled, well...terrible, but Daniel was on goat's milk and so I was like a walking fermented feta factory all of the time! It was atrocious. I always carried at least one extra shirt with me.
Of course, now the smell of fet reminds me of my little guy. :)
blech is right. Extra shirts are indeed a good thing.
i hope you're feeling better...once the little one arrives it'll be years before you can leave the house with less than two bags...maybe it wouldn't hurt to start early with a change of clothes for you :)
Awesome!
Have you been photo documenting this?
Oh, man!
but you've only puked three times? That's pretty good!
i hear this is normal? what the hell do i know...but i agree, only 3 times? not bad. how annoying though...all the damn rules!
I am flashing back to my oops-too-many-cosmos bachelorette dinner which, like your story, invovled hurling in a bag in the car. So, so unpleasant. I highly recommend Febreeze (even though I STILL can't stand the smell of that stuff even four years later, thanks to the memories associated with it...) (And, to mitigate the horror of reading this, let me also say that this particular event was highly unlike me.)
Hope the nausea phase of pregnancy is nearly over!
Eeeeeeuuuwwwww.
Poor thing.
Pax, C.
Seth... my oldest... was allergic to milk (but we didn't find out for 9 months). Soooo... we would feed him... and he would puke. I rarely had clean clothes... and if they were "clean" they were stained with formula.
White shirts... lots of bleach... cures the blech!
oh, dear....
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