Let me begin by saying I’ve had an eventful weekend.
Being pregnant has been freakin’ fantastic. I have been dealing with some pretty brutal nausea…far more than I ever had with Mia. It got so bad last week that I admitted to Caleb that I’d rather go ahead, throw up, and get it over with.
I got my wish as I was grocery shopping at Sam’s Club last Friday afternoon. Not in the privacy of a bathroom stall; NO, not with my head hanging safely over a toilet, or even a sink or a trash can. I vomitted without warning, suddenly, violently, and in front of everybody; all over the floor in a center aisle…just after sampling a tasty brisket sandwich.
The situation was actually much worse, but I will not elaborate.
It goes without saying I was beyond mortified. Mia, who thankfully had been running ahead of the buggy, out of the line of fire, came up behind me and lifted my skirt as I stood there trying to wipe my face with a piece of paper that had been my grocery list. I yelled at her because I didn’t need people seeing what kind of panties I had on when they already knew everything I had eaten that day. We ran to the bathroom, cleaned up as best I could, and hightailed it out of that store, leaving the buggy and what items I had already collected sitting right there in the huge pile of puke.
I managed to hold it in all the way home, perhaps because I was concentrating so hard not to get sick in the car, but as soon as I walked in the door I lost it and began bawling my head off, in front of Mia, in front of Cheyenne…I cried like my puppy just died. I couldn’t help it. The girls, I think, were scared, and tried their hardest to make me feel better; Cheyenne by patting my knee and giving her most sympathetic face, Mia by fetching her very best stuffed animals and giving me hugs and pretend bandaids.
Caleb had, by coincidence or divine inspiration, bought a lovely bouquet of roses and arranged them in a vase. This made me cry. My mother had sent me the movie "Knocked Up". I got emotional over that. When Caleb came out of his office and asked me what was wrong, I started bawling all over again.
Caleb, being the wonderful man that he is, became a one-man-comedy-club until I was smiling again. He volunteered to take care of the shopping from now on, an offer which I gratefully accepted, at least for the next month, which I think is enough time for the Sam’s people to forget my face. He laughed and pointed out that they probably had it on camera and had already watched it over and over before sending it in to You-Tube. I had to giggle at the idea.
We rounded out the evening by taking a walk, having a small dinner of hamburger helper (since my trip to the store had been unproductive), and watching the movie my mom sent. Only today can I write about this and sort of laugh. But not really.