YES, I know thousands of women endure morning sickness like pros. YES, I know that you, little lurker, are probably one who has mastered the art of the daily HCG-induced upchuck. I don't need your championed stories or to look at your war medals. I get it. I'm just telling you...
I couldn't have done it. So this is a post to say how extremely grateful I am that my first and second trimesters were free of the "hoaky croaky."
After enduring 48 hours of the stomach virus this past week in which I witnessed myself become a geyser of epic proportions, I can fully say that I am a weenie. I am a sissy. I
Brian had to endure this bug himself a few months ago and took it like a champ in comparison to my reactions. Whereas I couldn't even stand to be within ear-shot of him when he was vomiting, he took the role of caregiver to a whole new level as he stood over my shoulder, ready to clean up whatever mess was made in the process. He is superman, soon to be superDAD.
So I felt it absolutely necessary to thank God, my body, and baby Jacob for making this pregnancy a fairly easy one thus far. Had I been subjected to morning sickness, I am fairly sure I'd have no friends by now due to the incessant whining and never-ending "woe-is-me" stories that would inevitably have surfaced over and over and over...and over.
And as far as I'm concerned, I wouldn't wish the stomach bug on my worst enemy. Unless my worst enemy was Stephanie Meyer and whatever sad person wrote 50 Shades of Grey - because sometimes, you just gotta get real with punishment.
