Hello, my name is Ralph

Just when you get used to pregnancy, it throws you for a loop. Last week, my nausea was pretty much gone. I could eat whatever I wanted. Chris could make pasta with a garlic sauce upstairs, and I could smell it from downstairs even with the door closed. And like it. My appetite was getting stronger and smells didn’t bother me as much. Better yet, I had gone through most of the first trimester without vomiting once (except the time I was swabbing tea tree oil on my tonsils, but that could happen to anyone). Being pregnant ruled!

Then, two Fridays ago, I was riding in the car when suddenly I started feeling extremely queasy. Pretty soon, I was really queasy. Within five minutes, Chris had to pull the car over. Right! Now!

I vomited and vomited, then (since there had been almost nothing in my stomach to begin with) dry- heaved and dry-heaved. Shortly thereafter, I felt much better, except for having stinky nostrils, and devoured large quantities of chicken at KFC. I thought nothing of it, except how weird that I, who never vomit, had tossed my cookies.

Then, on another drive a week later, it happened again. I barfed and barfed until I couldn’t breathe, and then dry-heaved a bit for good measure. I gave Chris the go-ahead to drive. We made it a few yards, then I made him stop so I could projectile-vomit some more. Where it came from after all that dry-heaving, I couldn’t tell you. I felt fine the rest of the day, but later noticed I had broken copious amounts of blood vessels in and around my eyes.

The next day, I woke up feeling fine. I swallowed my prenatals, showered and applied my makeup. I looked fabulous. Then I started blow-drying my hair. I bent over at the waist and began working on the back of my head. After a very short while, I realized that an eruption was imminent. I ran to the toilet and, once more, hurled and hurled. I noticed that the adorable shirt I had selected had an unfortunately-placed ribbon that tied at the neckline. With great presence of mind, I peeled it off and proceeded to vomit and dry heave and vomit some more. Naturally, I broke yet more blood vessels.

Afterward, as usual, I felt absolutely fine and proceeded about my business, which unfortunately included the complete re-application of my makeup, and I am sad to say it didn’t look half as fabulous as it did before I offered up the contents of my stomach to the great porcelain god.

I have come to a few conclusions after ruminating over the curious occurrence of Week 10 and 11 vomiting.

1.) All three incidents occurred on a mostly empty stomach, rather early in the day. I have taken steps to remedy early-morning emptiness, and no more vomiting has occurred.

2.) Twice, the vomiting occurred after I had consumed pizza the night before. As pizza causes stomach discomfort immediately after consumption as well, I am staying away from pizza.

3.) Why am I just now starting to throw up, at the very end of the first trimester? Obviously, it is because I became cocky about not having vomited.

4.) At least I don’t have to use my heartbeat monitor every 10 minutes to make sure the baby is still there. Obviously, something is making me barf, and I’m guessing it’s bigger than an ant, smaller than a breadbox, and that its synapses are forming this week.

So yeah, while I’m enjoying being able to eat garlic and burritos again, I’m not going to get too excited about the glorious second trimester. If this baby likes anything, it’s letting everyone know it’s here. If it’s not sore breasts, it’s going up two cup sizes in two months. If it’s not nausea, it’s the amazing traveling vomit show. And as it gets bigger, I’m sure it will think of more ways to make its presence known. Broken ribs, anyone?

And now, the Week 12 belly shots. Without makeup, because when you’re this exhausted, you just don’t care anymore.

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