It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel like sh--

Hi bloggo world.  Why haven't I written anything in like a month?  Because I'm pregnant.  Yay! Ugh. This is the point where my blog takes a sharp turn away from witty froth toward depression.  If you know me, you know I am the puke queen.  I vomit several times a day, right through to the bitter end.  So while I'm happy to be having a baby, I'm also very happy knowing each day that passes is one more day toward my goal of never, ever being pregnant again.  Would I like a bigger family? Maybe. But psychologically I just can't do this again.  Some have insinuated that it'll be like labor, I'll forget, I'll be willing.  No, no, and no.  There are things that cannot be unseen or unfelt.

Some things are different this pregnancy.

• My aversions are possibly slightly less acute.  I still can't cook, go grocery shopping or open the fridge without holding my breath, but I can often eat food if I don't think about it and it magically appears (i.e. takeout).  
• Another thing that is different is that my mom gave me a calendar to keep track of how often I throw up.  It's sort of like an advent calendar of misery.  How many hash marks can I make today? (Three so far). Sometimes I find myself wondering whether I can count something as one or two barfs.  For example, this morning Pip had a poopy diaper, which inevitably leads to throwing up for me.  One hash mark.  Then later we went to the grocery store, another trigger, so I was dry heaving in my bucket in the parking lot and bailing it out the car door.  I hadn't eaten much so it was just saliva and gagging.  But some snotty preppy looking people walked up to the car next to me so I had to try to seem like I wasn't the grossest human in the world.    Then I got home and finished the job properly with a nice dose of bile.  Is that two pukes because of two locations? Or one because really it was all part of the same horrific nightmare? I counted it as two.  If the attacks are separated by five to ten minutes you get to count it twice.  My barf, my rules.
• Also, thanks to having already had a baby I have poor bladder control.  This means that, unlike last time, every time I vomit I also pee my pants a little.  Sometimes a lot.   It is deeply demoralizing and also generates more laundry.
• I don't cherish naive hopes about all this awfulness getting better in a month or so. 

What can I do to help? Some people say.  I don't know.  If I'm barfing at your house, be cool.  Try to pretend it isn't happening.  Maybe switch on the TV and lie to me and tell me it drowned me out (I am a loud and assertive barfer).  Let me wear your old sweatpants home if I pee my pants, then sit down on the toilet and accidentally also barf in my underwear and ultimately just have to take a shower and wear a towel around my waist in lieu of underwear and slacks (thanks, Mom).  Offer me snacks without asking me what I want, so I don't have to think about food. A nice shoulder rub.  Dramatically lower your expectations of me.  

What can you avoid doing?

• I can't tolerate the smell of onions or garlic.  Cool people keep these things to themselves.
• Don't suggest some remedy that works for people whose guts are weak-willed.  Some people have a gag reflex that will respond to such measures as mints, ginger tea, small meals throughout the day, etc. etc.  My diaphragm is powerful and firm of purpose.  All easy measures have been tried.  Medication has also proved to be a joke.  So don't tell me "if I just ate a saltine in bed I was fine." Bully for you.  My gut isn't a quitter to be put off by such things.  It will vomit and no saltine is going to stop it! En avant!
• Don't tell me how you're amazed I can do this because vomiting is so hard for you it just makes you cry and feel awful and helpless.  I feel the same way! I also cry! I have a throat that is raw, a belly that is always hungry and empty, and I'm depressed and sad!  I'm not amazing, I simply have no alternative.  I'm not going to get an abortion so there is no way out but through.
• Don't be hateful to Muslims, non-white people, women or anyone else.  This isn't really about my pregnancy but it is very hard for me to keep badgering our representatives to save America between barfing.  You can do your bit by not being a terrible human.

Fun places I've puked so far: (* denotes place I also peed my pants)

1. Albertan's bathroom*
2. Safeway bathroom*
3. Parking lot of Baja Fresh
4. Parking lot of Market of Choice
5. The student union*
6. My office bathroom*
7. The church bathroom* (Technically peed my skirt in this instance)
8. Mom's bathroom** (see above incident in which I both barfed AND peed in my underwear)
9. Mom-in-law's bathroom*
10. Friend's house meeting her boyfriend for the first time at Thanksgiving*

This wasn't funny or fun to read I'm sure.  But now you know.  Stay tuned for more fun and games from a bitter vomit-splattered hag!