Queen of Queasy

I had strong morning sickness at the start of my current pregnancy.  Very little vomiting but an upset stomach all day, most days into the second trimester.  Bad for the mood, good for keeping down early weight gain.  It passed by September and I was all back to normal or so I thought.  I forgot about the damage my delicate gag reflex can cause.

Brushing my teeth can still be a problem some mornings.  Another trigger is hard to explain but a guaranteed puke-inducer -- if my hair goes into my mouth as I inhale, because it's windy or I turned my head fast as a couple of examples, I throw up.  Instantly, no stopping the gagging.  Tom was skeptical of this claim until he saw it in action as we walked to the World Series game on a very windy night.  I never realized how often my hair ends up in my mouth until it started making me gag reflexively.  It's bad enough to make me want to shave my head.  Well, almost.  I'm scary-looking enough these days without turning into Telly Savalas's doppelgänger. 

Combining my sensitive gag reflex with something gross is also an instant trigger.  Madam has a cold and has been sneezing nasty crap out for the better part of a week now.  A good mother would check the tissue for color and consistency.  (Just typing that makes my mouth start watering and not in a good way.)  I look the other way, wipe and toss as quickly as I can.  Yesterday, while I was emptying the dishwasher and she was eating breakfast, I heard her sneeze and yell, "TISSUE!" as she barreled into the kitchen to grab a kleenex, bless her self-suffient little heart.  When she returned to the table, she called, "Mama, I got a boogie in my cereal."  Annoyed at the prospect of stoping mid-chore and slightly repulsed at the thought of picking out a piece of snot, I hollered, "Just pick it out and put it on your napkin, honey.  Your cereal is fine."  (Send my Mother of the Year honors to 1115 F...)  There was something in her voice when she said, "Yeah, weeeell..." that made me stop to go and help her.  When I looked in the bowl  -- BLAAACH!  Thank God there was nothing in my stomach or I would have blanketed the room in vomit like the pie eater in "Stand by Me".  Swimming in her bowl of Cocoa Krispies was a mound of phlegm the likes of which I'd never seen.  It was like a dollop of sour cream in black bean soup.  (Equally gross, in my opinion.)  So I grabbed the bowl and ran to the sink with it, dry heaving the whole time.  My little boogie monster goes, "What.  Was.  THAT?"  so I said that she sneezed out her boogies and it's good to get them out but a tissue is a better place for it.  Big sigh.  "No, not THAT.  What was YOU doing???"  Good question, honey.  I didn't think, I just retched.  I would never have made it as a Fear Factor contestant but in this pregnancy, I can't even handle the normal grossness that comes part and parcel with being a mom.

Today I got up after a relatively restful 5 hours of sleep (only 3 tinkle trips during the night!) and promptly went into a coughing fit that ended in violent prolonged vomiting.  The kids were standing outside the bathroom door, convinced I was dying.  I was not sure that they were wrong to be honest.  This one is all on Sheemee.  She has been pushing upwards with all her might, probably shoving food up and past my stomach flap all night.  Awesome.   Like I need any help in the vomit department.  Jack suggested that I spank her for it when she is 5.  I might just consider it if she doesn't stop feng shui-ing my internal organs.