BLECK

A fellow nurse made this vomit bucket for me. The inspiration? Y'all know I'm sick 24/7. Well, it doesn't disappear just because I'm working and taking care of other sick people. It's a constant. Saturday, after a long shift, I was driving home from work. I was nauseated, but I always am. No biggie. I was going about 65 miles an hour, when I suddenly began projectile vomiting.

I'm not talking about a little bit of throw up. I'm talking gallons of it. I was wearing all white nursing scrubs and there was not a thing I could do, but try my hardest not to wreck. I think I vomited for a full 30 seconds. It was all over the steering wheel, the driver door, my shoes, my face, my neck, and my clothes were absolutely soaked with vomit.

I continued to drive home. What else was I supposed to do? I called Cliff to bring towels to the Jeep after arriving at our apartment complex. I got out and informed him that I was not walking, while soaked in vomit. So, I stripped in the parking lot. Oh yes. Yes, I did. I wrapped myself in a towel, proudly marched through the parking lot, and up 3 flights of stairs and right into my apartment.

Landen met me with big eyes and an "Ewwwww" and I jumped in the tub. I remained sick that night, as always, and got up for work Sunday morning. I relayed my fun drive to my coworkers so one of them made me the "ralph bucket."

A doctor saw the bucket and disagreed that it was the correct choice. "She has projectile vomiting. This is just going to cause it to hit the plastic and bounce right back in her face. She needs to wear a plastic grocery bag around her ears. That way she can vomit, while still driving with two hands!" Well, I can't say it's a bad idea.

Another doctor heard that I haven't been eating. I have no appetite. It's a chore to eat. So he informed me that I needed to start drinking two Ensure's a day. At hearing the word Ensure, my eyes started to tear up, my mouth started to fill with saliva, and it was all I could do not to vomit on the poor, advice giving doctor. I told him to NEVER, EVER say the word Ensure around me again. "Fine!", he said. "I want you to always, always have a bag of trail mix in your pocket. Don't touch it directly. Just pour it in your mouth directly. Every hour, you must do this."

Ha! Oh, dear doctor. You do not understand the job of a nurse on a busy cardiac floor. Eating, drinking, toileting...no time. Eat every hour. Funny, funny. I laughed at my OB/GYN office when they told me the same thing. I even had one doctor tell me to stop running to codes! Bahahaha! "You must WALK only!" That is almost as funny as eating every hour. Real life is not on a schedule.

As sick as I am, I don't want it to sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. I understand that sickness is just part of it. And it's my hope that it's an indication that the pregnancy is healthy. I know how it feels to want a baby more than anything in the world, and hear a new 20 something year old Mom who got pregnant just by looking at her husband, complain about the baby non-stop. That used to really work my nerves. It still does actually.

I think about single mothers who are pregnant. These mothers must work one or two jobs, while chasing a child, take care of a house, and do it all through morning sickness or all day sickness.

What about pregnant women whose husband's are serving in our military? Imagine how hard it must be to be sick 24/7, while you are in constant worry over the safety of your husband.

What about women who are abused? How about pregnant women that are abused? Mentally or physically. I'm here to tell you that it takes the lowest form of a human to abuse a pregnant woman. Not only is the woman being abused, but so is the unborn child. Imagine having a baby with that man. He has already abused your child in the womb. You think he wont abuse the child after he/she is born? Please, please tell the proper authorities and GET OUT! Do not be ashamed. Do not feel like a failure. Society will view these men as the low life scum that they are and they will be handled. Please. Get out of the relationship and make sure they are never allowed to contact you again.

My point is that I understand I'm not that pitiful. I understand that the pay off is more than worth it. I understand that the sickness will eventually go away. But, it is a trying time. I'm exhausted from fighting nausea, day and night, for 9 weeks with no end in sight. I'm a recluse. I don't like to leave the house. I don't want to shave my legs, brush my hair, talk on the phone. I just want to lay still. Well, I don't want to lay still. I am forced. Today, I must go shopping for clothes. I have no clothes to accomodate this ever growing belly. I think I will proudly carry my ralph bucket with me!

Now, I must leave you with a story about my niece, Emily. She is 4.



I showed her a picture of my ultrasound, which as you know is all black with a tiny little white bean. Emily saw it and didn't say a word. She just went on playing. Fast forward a week or so. My sister, Kelli, went to visit her in-laws. She said that Emily informed them Aunt Cindy was going to have a black baby boy. Kelli asked her what she was talking about and she said, "I saw the picture of him!"