Monday, 5 December 2011

This time last year 'cracker' was a curse word

When we found out we were pregnant I thought that I should start a blog. A lot of people in our lives had questions (like how, exactly, do lesbians get pregnant anyway?) and I figured that a blog would be a good place to answer those questions. But as the pregnancy progressed and the nausea set in (followed by insomnia, ribs that stretched out 6 inches and sciatica) I quickly realized that keeping a pregnancy blog would have been all wha.wha.wha.I.hurt.wha.wha.wha.I’m.Sick.wha.wha. And the internet has enough of that. But I did keep some personal notes on the experience. And it’s fun to look back at what was happening in my body at this time last year. Let me take you back to the second week of December, 2010:
Dear baby: If you would like to have a sibling at any point in the future you may want to stop making your mama so sick.

Dear wife (and the rest of the world): No, I do not want a cracker.

This week has been awful. I am now puking up to 8 times a day. Usually I can keep count. Some days I can’t. People who are around me for any length of time are certain that I am going to end up in the hospital due to dehydration. I can see why they would think that but I’m confident that I can manage through the next few weeks on a steady flow of smoothies. I couldn’t possibly be any more thankful for my wife who is making them on demand. Currently, this avocado, mango and banana smoothie is saving my life.

The most annoying thing about puking all day is not the constant nausea, it’s not the fact that I need to brush my teeth 10 times a day and that toothpaste makes me gag, it’s not even the embarrassing puking in public. The most annoying thing about puking all day is being bombarded with well meaning people trying to get me to eat crackers. I feel like a parrot. And Polly does NOT want a cracker. I blame TV. Pregnant women on TV eat crackers and magically feel better. I could practically puke just typing the word cracker. My wife has bought into this cracker-hoop-la and there are currently enough crackers in our house to get us through some kind of apocalyptic Armageddon.  At least 10 times a day she suggests that I should try some crackers. So, finally, yesterday I relented. If it was so important to her that I eat a cracker then I felt it was my wifely duty to indulge her. I agreed that I’d eat a cracker and she practically skipped to the kitchen to get me some. She returned with a plate of fruit and a handful of crackers. I picked up the hard, dry, piece of toasted wheat and put it in my mouth. It was awful. I finished it, smiled at her and then immediately ran to the bathroom to puke.

She has not since offered me a cracker.

Oh how things have changed! When I was pregnant I knew the payoff would be great but I wasn’t entirely aware of just how spectacular it would be. If I had known, I might have complained less. But here we are, one year later, and the only one puking in this house is the babe. And he was worth it. Gosh he was worth it. 

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