Today, all I want to do is share all of my intriguing theories on airport bathrooms with you. These are highly controversial theories that could possibly catapult me into Discovery Channel stardom, but I can’t. Wanna know why? Because all of my mental facilities are focused on the scary effects of food on a pregnant belly. I never thought I would utter these words in my lifetime, but I am scared to eat. How could this be? What is happening to me?
This pregnancy-nausea thing has me completely baffled. It’s nearly impossible to explain, but here goes. You know when you are so hungry that you feel like throwing up? Kind of like when you’ve past the stomach-growling phase, and moved into the feeling truly rotten phase when eating sounds like torture? Ok, that’s how I have felt for most of the day. Now, most would say to eat some food for criminy’s sake YOU STUPID WHINER, but it’s not that easy because then you run the chance of eating something that makes your stomach blow up like a helium balloon while you moan and whimper in the bed ALL DAY LONG ON NEW YEARS EVE. The bloating, people. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THE BLOATING.
All day I have had an internal dialogue about my gastric state of affairs.
Why do I feel like throwing up?
I am NOT going to throw up – I’ve made it through 9 weeks and I’m not starting now.
Am I hungry?
Should I eat something?
What if I eat something and get a horrific belly ache like yesterday?
Have I eaten too much today?
Maybe I’m feeling nauseated because I have eaten too much.
But what if I haven’t eaten enough and that’s why I’m feeling nauseated?
If I were to eat something, what would give me the least amount of volatile gas?
Should I eat eat half of the meal and wait thirty minutes to see how my stomach reacts?
And then I resort to making a mental checklist of what I’ve eaten in the past 12 hours like some tweaked out anorexic calorie-counter. Bullshit. Total bullshit.
So what I am trying to say? Hell if I know. How about have a wonderful New Years Eve and a non-bloatational 2006 (yes, I know that isn’t a real word. Don’t fuck with a pissy pregnant lady).
p.s. – On a much happier note, my breasts look fabulous. Thanks for asking.