You know the old adage, "no news is good news?" I think that is pretty accurate. Not that I plan on posting every day, but the lapse in posts over the past few days has been a result of feeling pretty good, and wanting to "be" in that place of relative normalcy, knowing that that chances of me feeling cruddy, and being thrown into a position where instead of "being" in the comforting place is replaced on having the power only to reflect on it, would happen sooner than later. And so I sit here, feeling just icky.
Let's first start with the three or so good days! Sunday night's X-C banquet was fun, and I had a fair amount of food from the buffet. Monday morning wasn't great, but I have realized that mornings do tend to be cause more nausea. Tuesday also tended to be a positive day, although I was worried about the impending dinner with Carol and Marybeth prior to our going to an Ani concert. Believe it or not, it went fine (even when they gave me the wrong veggie burger, and my fountain sprite ended up being bottled root beer). Ani was great, and she was far less "angry" than I have seen her in the past. We all agreed that we were glad, because her transition nicely mimicked all of our own transitions. This is not to say that we didn't love her playing some of her angry "oldies," but I can at least say that her ode to her little baby hit me deeper than even the songs she played that seemed to vibrate every inch of muscle in my body.
Wednesday night I had big ambitions to have a great dinner, but it ended up being a bagel and bacon. Strange, but true. It is like my new fascination with wings--a delicacy I would never have enjoyed previously. After stripping away the skin, and pulling out those long, gray strings of lord knows what, I usually would pick of a sliver of chicken, and pass over to Eric to suck down. Now, I have found myself, in truly barbaric fashion, eating most parts of chicken wings, and asking to split the last piece of bacon with Eric. After the "dinner," the nausea crept throughout my body, and my anxiety decided it would be a dual to the death (or so it felt like). They fought and kept me up all night, and here I am now, Thursday AM, frustrated and keeping my fingers crossed that it will pass.
On to the subject of this post. If you haven't noticed, nausea is one of my least favorite past times, but the one "funny" part to nausea, at least at times, can be gagging. I know, this sounds bizarre, but what I mean is that I have been amazed to see what causes me to gag. You know when you are so startled at how you react to something that you sort of find it funny? Not "ha, ha" funny, but "did that really just come out of my body?" funny. Throwing away our slightly dying flowers from our table just sent me over the edge the other day, and the slight smell of dying flowers made me gag repeatedly until I put the trash outside. After removing the offending trash, I sort of stood there...stunned that the smell had that much control over me! Interestingly, I keep telling Eric that I can "smell" the flowers we have in our house (strategically placed for purposes of "staging" our condo), and that it is starting to bother me. Eric quizzically looks at me like I am crazy. I know that the enhanced sense of smell is thought to be an old wives' tale (much like extreme nausea means your having a girl), but there is no question that my olfactory system has become more acute, or at least discriminating. I think perhaps it is not that my sense of smell is better, but that smells bother me more. And then in a very Pavlovian fashion, I am starting to gag at the sight of something that I merely think would have a bothersome odor. For example, the amount of commercials and show segments focused on food as Thanksgiving approaches is alarming. The other day I saw a segment on a cooking show where an oyster dressing (basically, stuffing with oysters) was made. I don't even know if oysters smell, but the sight of the segment made me gag until I turned off the TV.
As I said before, I am not going to proofread my posts, but in thinking back to what I have just written, I realize that it has probably been more negative than not. In trying to put a positive spin on things, I do have to say that it continues to amaze me how our bodies adjust to pregnancy. It really is a miracle! And there is 1 new symptom I have been experiencing. You cannot even look at my chest without it hurting. It really is a very premenstrual feeling, and part of me is worried that I will get a "period" again this month. (Although, I am almost out of the woods with the first trimester.) Despite the pain, it will be fun to have a brief "natural" breast augmentation.
I am grateful for being able to work from home some of the week. It can, at times, induce slight "cabin fever," but it also gives me the luxury of feeling sick in an environment that no one will question "what is wrong?"
I am grateful for the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Yes, it is one of those cult, "Oprah" book club books, but so worth all of the acclaim and attention. I bought it last spring for my mother, without any indication that it would become such a sensation. Honestly, I avoided reading it because it would be like buying Ugg boots this fall--you are WAY past the trend. Luckily, books never really go out of style. :) Anyway, her book has been a really wonderful distraction, and although her journey is remarkably different from the one I am on, I think that a lot of her wisdom translates quite seamlessly. Last night, while reading her 3rd section on Bali, I realized that the whole time I was using the following two, in conjunction, as my bookmarks: my first ultrasound, and a recipe for southwestern pizza. There is something slightly funny about that combination if you ask me...
I am grateful for pajamas. Not much to comment here; I think you are all with me on this one. :)