Sunday, June 13, 2010

An open letter to Morning Sickness

I cannot stop eating. I love food. I have to admit that I have had visions of me putting my whole fist in my mouth just to momentarily kill the hunger. And this usually occurs as I am driving home from having just eaten. I have put on 4 pounds in 4 weeks with this pregnancy. I am already wearing maternity clothes (nevermind that I probably should have gone up a size before pregnancy, I am just happy to be able to blame it on something rather than just my own lack of discipline.) I am sporting the belly of someone who is in her 4th or 5th month of pregnancy. Yeah. I'm in my second. I'm blowing up people! I'm blowing up!!!!

When I was pregnant with Cole, I had horrible morning sickness,..all day. And all night. I think I lost 6 pounds in the first trimester. Water wouldn't even stay down. So I looked svelte during my pregnancy. Except towards the end that my face got swollen. But I didn't even notice it until I had seen a picture I had taken and that made me wonder if maybe I didn't look so hot after all. But you could only tell I was pregnant when I would turn around to face you and my big o' belly would knock you down. I have a feeling that my ass is gonna get pretty wide this time around. I laughed when people said that with the second pregnancy your body knows what to do and it springs into action. That you get bigger. "No,...not me. I'm a teeny little thing." I was always kinda reassured that the nausea would help me lose those extra pounds and would assure me that I again would gain no more than 22 pounds in pregnancy.

Dear Morning Sickness,


I hated you. I hated the thought of motherhood with you around. I couldn't even imagine motherhood with you lurking at every bite and sip. I couldn't see past that toilet I became very close to. Oh, and those brown paper bags. How they saved me a time or two. I remember the ride to the airport to catch a plane to Oregon. I thought you were in my past. And you snuck up on me. There was not a brown paper bag in sight. But I managed to swindle a plastic baggie from brother or sister and then we became very close-baggie and I. I learned a lot about keeping quiet under pressure. Vomit pressure.


You also brought me closer to my OBGYN and all his staff. We were in there every week to check on baby. The contractions my stomach did all day everyday worried him. So we had to go in and get checked all the time. Sick. Nauseous. I hated you as I had my sights on that OB's bathroom. And when someone would go in there, I'd break a sweat. In a panic I would look around for somewhere to quietly relieve myself. Because you were a sneaky little thing. You liked to keep me on my toes.


But I survived your 12 weeks of torture. I did. Yes I did. So this time around, I was ready for you. I had my people lined up to help battle you, and bring me wet towels and headbands. And to watch my other little terror. The 3 year old. Remember him? Now that I think about it, it occurs to me that you two might have been in cahoots. You haven't showed up but sometimes, he talks so much he makes me nauseous with this pregnancy. 

So where are you now tough guy? I'm in my 7th week,...I'm just sayin' 

Thinking of you,


Vannessa

Also, Cole is super duper excited about being a big brother. He has given himself a new honorary title: Brother Bear. Hmm, thinking that's a cute shirt idea......But in the meantime, this picture of Baby Bear (at 6 weeks 6 days) will have to do....

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