8th
And so it begins…
I blog about a lot of other things in my life so why not this. The difference is that this one is anonymous. Maybe it’s cowardly, but I have my reasons. In the meantime, here we go.
I suspected I was pregnant for a few weeks now. It’s funny. It’s like I knew almost instantly. Something was off. I was tired. I was running to the bathroom every 15 minutes to pee. My boobs were bigger (and you’d better believe they were huge to begin with) and hurt constantly. And then there was the nausea. Constant, obnoxious nausea. I dont’ know why they call it morning sickness; morning is the least of my problems. I find that it is actually worse in the late afternoons and at night.
A couple weeks ago, I stopped at a Starbucks with my friend for a quick cup of something warm. It was freezing outside and cider sounded like the perfect thing. Just plain, warm cider. I added a bit of cinnamon and drank it down quickly while chatting with her about nothing in particular. It was delicious for about three minutes…and then the queasiness began. I sipped cold water to keep it down while quickly saying good-bye to my friend and then hopped in a cab home. I knew it was coming so I quickly removed the earrings I’d just bought from the bag they came in and rolled it down airplane barf-bag style. Somewhere along the 70s on the West Side Highway I heaved into my bag two, three, four times. It was half-full by the time I was finished and the cab driver stared at me oddly. I ignored him and instead sat calmly with my warm bag of puke, staring out the window at the passing lights, and wondering what the hell was wrong with my body.
