I can't eat cheese. Blasphemy, I know. But thinking about it makes my stomach try to crawl up my throat, so blaspheme I must. Tomatoes also set it off, which means that spaghetti and pizza are officially AWFUL. Damn you stomach, you temperamental bitch! DAMN YOOOOU! KHAAAAAAAN!
Whoever called it "morning sickness" was obviously a lackwit man, because I can't imagine any woman who'd been-there-done-that would call it something so misleading. Because you know what? MY MORNINGS ARE GREAT. I wake up feeling like I didn't sleep at all, but I'm not SICK. No, that sets in later, after I start getting whiffs of stinky things, like that funny phantom smell that stalks me all over the house. Smells like a rancid combo of poo, blood, and rot. I assure you, my house does not smell like any of those things. So unless there's a zombie with hemorrhoids and diarrhea hanging out in the bathroom, there's just no explanation for it.
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2 comments:
The cheese Goddess will forgive you.
Besides, She is too happy for you to smite you.
Not to mention the fact that I am absolutely happy for you, sweetie.
*hugs*
Oh, the smell thing. I think it peaks in the second trimester. I didn't have it in the worst way, but you are getting all the best pregnancy things.
Hang in there...
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