Warning: if you are squeamish, don't read this one.
John went to the grocery on his way home since my nausea has often hindered me from buying us a decent selection of food when I go shopping. He brought the bags in and I began putting the food away. I was feeling a bit yucky and burpy beforehand, but thought I was doing well since I haven't actually thrown up in a few days. I pulled out a package of raw brats and just the sight of them sent me hurling to the trashcan.
I was heaving, but grabbed a bag and attempted to make it to the toilet before stuff actually spewed. I made it. So I gave my dinner to the porcelain throne (amazing how much was left in my stomach after not eating for 3 1/2 or 4 hours) and sat there seeing if I was done. All of a sudden, my DH comes in and says "Babe, I'm sorry but I gotta go now. Are you done?" I tell him I think I'm done and move out of the way. I took my bag (thankfully) and went the bedroom thinking I'd lay down for a minute. Uh oh. Here we go again. There I was retching on the bedroom floor into a shopping bag. Gross. Just think if I hadn't had the bag.... Note to self: Buy a trashcan for the bedroom.
So dear Squirt, thanks for the reminder that you are here and thriving. I'm so looking forward to feeling you move sometime in the upcoming weeks. I can hardly wait!
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1 comment:
Ah yes, it is sometimes a fun game to recount how many different receptacles and geographic locations one has puked in on a particular day! Just another way to enjoy the ride. :) Love you & Squirt. Which is also the name of the baby sea turtle on "Finding Nemo" so every time I watch that (4 million times a day) I think of you.
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