Eurggh. (Morning Sickness)

Member Name: peel.rebekah

Product:	Morning Sickness
Date:	31/01/01 (254 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Ha ha.

Disadvantages: Yes.

Eurrrgh.

I've been waiting to update this opinion, and just about now feels just about right for sharing my absolute eurghness with the rest of you:

I'm about two months pregnant and I feel like squirling whirling mass of vomitus horribilus: I feel nauseous from the moment the sun pries open my eyes in the morning, until the very second my mind drifts off and away into gentle sleep (only to wake two hours later due to toilet needs or extremely bizarre and worrying dreams - giant piranhas and live horse meat to name but a few).

It's a incredibly nasty sensation, this 'morning sickness'; it's somewhere between having that one drink that takes you over the edge into toiletdom (without the spinning room and embarrassing discourse that usually ensues about how much you love somebody), and being that child in the back of your parents' car that says "Mum, I don't feel too good" just that split second to late: I feel like I could be sick anytime, it just seems to take one extra little 'thing' to send me over the edge and into ickness.

Most of the time that 'thing' is a smell; more often than not, a food smell: This is probably the nastiest, most evil point to pregnancy - you're hungry, REALLY hungry, so you eat something you normally find delicious...but the smell is so overpowering that it's off to the powder room for you...and then you're hungry again, but this time you can't eat the food that you were eating before (and normally love) because it and its smell remind you of the fact you've just been sick. Arggh, and so then you stop eating as much as you should because so many things make you feel sick, and you end up feeling worse as an empty stomach only aggravates the situation.

I hate this bit; I pray that I'll enter a time warp that will rush me through to a time and place in my pregnancy when I'm just an enormous mammoth of a creature
that can only whine on about backache and stretch marks.

Huff, doesn't look like that's going to happen; so while I?m here, suffering, I'll tell you of a few of the things that are supposed to help...everyone except me, or so it seems:

*Eating small amounts regularly, therefore never having an empty stomach.

This began to help me in my first pregnancy at about four months (I suffered with morning sickness until my eighth month, and yeh, I'm just praying it's going to be different this time around), as the continual nausea abated first thing in the morning, allowing me to peck on fruit (fresh and dried) while I was at work, and build up a bit of tolerance to the nausea that returned mid afternoon. It's always a good idea to have something to munch on while you're out and about anyway, and I did/do find that the hungrier I am, the more likely I am to be sick.

Unfortunately, this sound advice isn't helping me as yet, as the only foodstuffs that I seem able to keep down are apples and chocolate - Chocolate? Yeh, great, but you can get weary of chocolate too, you know ('cept Jill, but then she's special) - I'm getting so bored of eating these two things, and I'm sure It's all mental, but even the thoughts of them are making me feel all queer.

*Avoid foods that make you feel nauseous.

Which is probably jolly good advice, until you realise that:

1) most foods make you feel nauseous

and

2) you don't know which ones won't make you feel queasy until you try to cook them or they arrive on the plate in front of you...uh oh, too late.

*Dry toast/biscuits in the morning.

Hmmn. People say it works, and that's very nice for them. The ginger biscuits in the morning has yet to to tried by me - the French don't do gingernuts - but ginger, as an idea, is pretty cool: Something about it is supposed to appease sickness, e
specially of the sea variety, which leads me onto...

*Ginger.

I've been sucking and chewing ginger root for the last two weeks; I've even invested in a bit of Chinese sugared and sliced selection. Now, it seems to work, for a while, but, as with the chocolate and apples, I'm getting so damned sick of it that it has begun to have the reverse effect.

*Nux Vomica.

This was my saving grace in my first pregnancy; I'm waiting on a delivery from England, as the old bottle ran out after two days of the new symptoms. It's a homeopathic remedy that should be used about 2-3 times a day (10 drops) and has an accumulative effect (or so it seems - I really can't tell what is and what's not a placebo anymore), so the longer you use it, the more likely you are to notice its impact on your nausea.

As with all homeopathic medicines, talk to your doctor and homeopath before using Nux Vomica.

*Mind over matter.

The most effective solution to date: If I don't think about it, and therefore don't spend the time writing a damned article about it...tshh, foiled again...then I'm less likely to make those visits to the side of the porcelain. This means that I have to stay busy - if not physically (as right now all my insides are upshifting and moving all over the place, hence I'm a bit knackered), then mentally: Find yourself a new author to dive into; discover the underlying social and moral issues of Sunset Beach; have a nice stroll in the park and don't, whatever you do, find yourself thinking about food...eurgh, too late.

*Avoid changing nappies.

Speaks for itself really, doesn't it?

*Run away to the countryside.

Yeeah. This is what I try to do most of the time while pregnant, as I find the pollution and general smells of the city (curries mixed with boiled rabbit, putrefying rubbish and cigarette smoke) do tend to make things a hell of a l
ot worse for me: Opening my windows in Paris and doing the same up (down?) in Devon or in the Solognes have slightly different effects on my wellbeing. I know it's a great luxury to have these little bolt holes to run to, and I'm awfully thankful to my father and parents-in-law for thinking about me and my progeny bearing problems pre to purchasing their idyllic little country getaways.

Oh well, good luck to all you out there who are in the same unfortunate boat: We all now that all this suffering will be worth it in the end (pfff) and that it won't last forever (just the next seven months if you're unlucky enough). Any 'final solutions' from readers would be rejoiced in and practiced as soon as humanly possible, 'cos, after only two weeks of this sickness, I've had enough and I just wanna sleep through the next seven months...wake me up in time for the epidural.

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