The nausea is starting to set in. Hardcore.
Most mornings I wake up at the crack of dawn with a hole in my stomach that can only be filled with food. Lots and lots of delicious food. Sometimes there is some nausea associated with it, but it’s been the type of nausea that comes from low blood sugar: it might make you feel crappy, but you can still eat through it.
This new nausea is low-blood-sugar’s evil, older cousin who went to the dark side. It’s so bad the room spins. Anything warmer than downright shivering is WAY too hot. I can’t cool down, I can’t sit or lay comfortably. Standing requires more strength than I have. Anything and everything smells terrible and only increases the nausea: the grass getting mowed outside, my husband’s deodorant, the kitchen sink (that even has a smell?), the fridge, the inside of a Gatorade bottle, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, you name it. Everything is just waiting to make my stomach roll and my head spin.
Luckily, eating food still helps. My routine each morning is stupid simple, designed to minimize both time and required brain power: 1) Chug water or Gatorade or both 2) Put on clothes. Try not to wear anything dirty. 3) Find bike lock key 4) Find house key 5) Hopefully don’t forget anything too important. If so, see #2 and #3. 6) Stumble to fave cafe and order smoothie. 7) Go to bathroom and brush teeth while they’re making smoothie (seriously, anything to minimize time between wakeup and first food!). 8) Sip smoothie. Chillax in booth. Contemplate how smoothies can be so damn good.
Evil Nausea’s only purpose is to terrorize the morning routine. Need to look for a pair of pants? Let’s just make your head run in circles. Finally managed to get said pants on? Time to groan on the floor in fetal position until the volcano in your stomach stops erupting. Got a good amount of water down? How about it sits up in your esophagus instead, triggering your gag reflex. Trying to think of what all you might need for the day? Cue overheating so bad you’re suddenly sticky from head to toe, and can’t even stand up for the lack of blood in your head.
Yes, mornings are lovely times. I’m feeling thankful I can at least eat, as I know lots of other preggos aren’t so lucky. One day at a time, that’s all I have to get through.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.