A beautiful Friday after work, I'm walking down a lovely little residential streets. It almost feels like spring here in Vancouver, the air is fresh and clean, the sky is blue and the birds are singing. Then suddenly, without warning or provocation there is puke in my mouth. I can't believe this is happening and I quickly and discreetly spite it out. I continue to walk on, thinking how strange and then it happens again and again and again. For absolutely no reason other then prehaps the baby trying to assert it's power over me, I am continually throwing up in my mouth. I am trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible, so I continue to walk on and hope that this insanity will subside. It does not. Before I can stop it or hide behind a bush there is puke in my mouth and I am spiting it out, hoping that none of the passerby notices my situation. I keep telling myself that I am fine and that this is nothing and that it will pass but it persists until I finally make it home and drag myself onto the couch with a strategically placed garbage can in front of it. The garbage can remains clean; apparently my stomach decided that puking in public would be more fun, then allowing me to keep any dignity at all.
This is my life now but there was a time not too long ago when I could control my bodily functions (to at least some degree). Alcohol has never sat well with me and so I am familiar with the nauseous leading up to a trip to the bathroom, followed by terrible retching. This was never pleasant but at least it was predicable. I could always make it to a bathroom on time. I could always hold it in on the walk home from the bar or even in the bumpy cab. What I am faced with now is unheard of: getting sick on the street, in the middle of the day, completely sober, this is not right!
A friend suggested I get a t-shirt that states something along the lines of; "Beware pregnant women approaching, could puke at any moment." Not exactly subtle but at least it would explain my predicament to strangers. I however, would prefer to send a message to my growing bundle of joy; "I am now officially in my second trimester baby and this is a time of happiness, excitement and very little physical drama. All this puking and nauseous business was fun, it gave me the full pregnancy experience but I'm good now, I'm done."
We'll see if he/she listens.