Prior to this point in my pregnancy, I had escaped the clutches of nausea, for the most part. Aside from a couple brief episodes a couple days before we found out I was pregnant, I actually felt pretty good, aside from being tired most of the time. I was starting to get a little cocky, thinking that I might be one of the lucky women who don’t have a problem with morning sickness. That cockiness was definitely premature, because it hit me with a vengeance this week. Seemingly out of nowhere, I began to feel sick. This was no ordinary passing nausea; it was amazingly persistent and lasted all day (and all night). I’m unfortunately one of those souls who don’t usually puke unless A) I’ve drunk way too much alcohol, or B) I’ve somehow gotten food poisoning. My stomach likes to hold onto all the icky stuff for dear life, and this “morning sickness” was no exception. If I was only nauseous when I got up, I would have been fine, but being sick all day (and night) long really took it out of me. I had thankfully already signed up for intermittent FMLA at work, so I was able to take sick days as needed without having to go to the doctor every time my stomach lurched. This came in handy, as I would miss more than 2 weeks total by the time my nausea resolved. Unfortunately, some days I would think I was totally fine to go to work… until I got into the car. Just as soon as the car accelerated to get on the interstate, it started. Combine that with having to drive by a landfill on the way that smells like dirty diapers, and you’ve got one unpleasant commute. This new-found sickness also coincided with some very, very sick and needy patients at work, so having to run to and fro constantly further exacerbated the ever-present nausea. I had to leave after just a few hours on more than one occasion.
This was also the week that my in-laws were visiting and we had planned to share the news with both his parents and my parents. It took every ounce of energy and sheer will to get the house clean to an acceptable standard, and to prepare (and then hide and try not to eat) the special blue and pink-frosted cupcakes that I had planned to make as a “surprise desert” to subtly clue them in. When my in-laws arrived, I was well under the throes of crippling nausea and fatigue, wearing grubby old pajamas and looking (and feeling) like total hell. They looked a little taken aback and concerned by my haggard appearance, but I assured them I was just recovering from an illness. I may have been imagining it, but I thought I saw the two of them exchange a “what’s really going on” look. Luckily, they didn’t press the issue.
The next day, Greg and I got things ready for dinner, and I’d had a pleasantly surprising (but brief) reprieve from the nausea (which was a blessing, because I was preparing soup for the Crock Pot and chopping up onions and other various odiferous ingredients). Finally, my mom arrived, and the in-laws got back from my father-in-law’s doctor’s appointment. We ate dinner and talked and laughed like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. As time went on, I became more and more nervous about telling. I knew they’d all be happy, but this was uncharted territory for Greg and myself.
After dinner had settled, we called everyone back into the kitchen for a “surprise desert”. I pulled the carefully frosted pink and blue cupcakes out of the oven with gusto, and put them on the counter where everyone could see them. My mother-in-law immediately picked up on what was going on, and started freaking out. “Is this true?” she shrieked, giving me a crushing hug. Obviously, she took it well. Greg’s dad also seemed pleased. My mom, who I thought for sure would be freaking out the most out of everyone (she’s been oh-so-subtly hinting at her readiness to be a grandma for a few years), was stone silent in the corner of the kitchen. I wandered over to her; my delicate feelings were kind of hurt that she didn’t immediately start wigging out that her longtime dream had finally come true. She just said “Congratulations” and gave me a hug. I was kind of puzzled, and told her as much. She just said she was so shocked that it was actually happening that she didn’t know how to react. I’d had a pregnancy “scare” a few months prior that turned out to be nothing, and she thought since I wasn’t pregnant then, that she’d be waiting a few more years. Of course, she was excited once the initial shock wore off. My dad was unfortunately unable to be there since he was working, but we ended up making a spontaneous trip to Centralia anyway, because my grandma had just been admitted to the hospital with a rapid heart rate, and since I was feeling okay, I wanted to visit her and make sure she was doing okay. I decided to keep the secret from the rest of the family for now, so we visited with her and kept it to ourselves. Dad met up with us in the parking lot in his squad car after we left, and his reaction was more enthusiastic than my mom’s was (we did call him and tell him over the phone after I told the in-laws and my mom, so he knew before we saw him). By the time we finished visiting and I dropped Mom off at home, I was totally exhausted by the evening’s events. Of course, I had to drive all the way back home, which took well over an hour. I immediately collapsed into bed, and slept like the dead.
The next day we went to Grafton, Illinois as we had planned before, to see the eagles that make it their home during the winter. The whole ride there (and back), I had to close my eyes because the motion of the car was making me feel very sick. We got to the Fin Inn for lunch, and I was feeling pretty bad. Greg’s mom hijacked the waitress and asked for some crackers “for the little pregnant lady” and the waitress happily obliged. It felt good to have so many people that concerned about my well being, even though I’m the type that usually is pretty independent. I could definitely get used to this.
This was also the week that my in-laws were visiting and we had planned to share the news with both his parents and my parents. It took every ounce of energy and sheer will to get the house clean to an acceptable standard, and to prepare (and then hide and try not to eat) the special blue and pink-frosted cupcakes that I had planned to make as a “surprise desert” to subtly clue them in. When my in-laws arrived, I was well under the throes of crippling nausea and fatigue, wearing grubby old pajamas and looking (and feeling) like total hell. They looked a little taken aback and concerned by my haggard appearance, but I assured them I was just recovering from an illness. I may have been imagining it, but I thought I saw the two of them exchange a “what’s really going on” look. Luckily, they didn’t press the issue.
The next day, Greg and I got things ready for dinner, and I’d had a pleasantly surprising (but brief) reprieve from the nausea (which was a blessing, because I was preparing soup for the Crock Pot and chopping up onions and other various odiferous ingredients). Finally, my mom arrived, and the in-laws got back from my father-in-law’s doctor’s appointment. We ate dinner and talked and laughed like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. As time went on, I became more and more nervous about telling. I knew they’d all be happy, but this was uncharted territory for Greg and myself.
After dinner had settled, we called everyone back into the kitchen for a “surprise desert”. I pulled the carefully frosted pink and blue cupcakes out of the oven with gusto, and put them on the counter where everyone could see them. My mother-in-law immediately picked up on what was going on, and started freaking out. “Is this true?” she shrieked, giving me a crushing hug. Obviously, she took it well. Greg’s dad also seemed pleased. My mom, who I thought for sure would be freaking out the most out of everyone (she’s been oh-so-subtly hinting at her readiness to be a grandma for a few years), was stone silent in the corner of the kitchen. I wandered over to her; my delicate feelings were kind of hurt that she didn’t immediately start wigging out that her longtime dream had finally come true. She just said “Congratulations” and gave me a hug. I was kind of puzzled, and told her as much. She just said she was so shocked that it was actually happening that she didn’t know how to react. I’d had a pregnancy “scare” a few months prior that turned out to be nothing, and she thought since I wasn’t pregnant then, that she’d be waiting a few more years. Of course, she was excited once the initial shock wore off. My dad was unfortunately unable to be there since he was working, but we ended up making a spontaneous trip to Centralia anyway, because my grandma had just been admitted to the hospital with a rapid heart rate, and since I was feeling okay, I wanted to visit her and make sure she was doing okay. I decided to keep the secret from the rest of the family for now, so we visited with her and kept it to ourselves. Dad met up with us in the parking lot in his squad car after we left, and his reaction was more enthusiastic than my mom’s was (we did call him and tell him over the phone after I told the in-laws and my mom, so he knew before we saw him). By the time we finished visiting and I dropped Mom off at home, I was totally exhausted by the evening’s events. Of course, I had to drive all the way back home, which took well over an hour. I immediately collapsed into bed, and slept like the dead.
The next day we went to Grafton, Illinois as we had planned before, to see the eagles that make it their home during the winter. The whole ride there (and back), I had to close my eyes because the motion of the car was making me feel very sick. We got to the Fin Inn for lunch, and I was feeling pretty bad. Greg’s mom hijacked the waitress and asked for some crackers “for the little pregnant lady” and the waitress happily obliged. It felt good to have so many people that concerned about my well being, even though I’m the type that usually is pretty independent. I could definitely get used to this.
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