I'm so glad to report that I haven't thrown up in quite a while! I feel so much better than a few weeks ago that I can almost say already, "Pregnancy's not so bad, let's do it again!" I vaguely remember the misery of lying on the couch and puking all day, vowing that adoption was the way we would continue to build our family. Everyone said, "You forget, that's why people keep having kids!" but I didn't believe them.
Now, a mere fortnight or two after my endless battle with food/smell/taste/stomach/anything-remotely-related-to-those-topics I find myself planning out when we'll do our next IVF. Sure, we'll throw adoption in there too, but it's so wonderful having these two little babies growing inside. Especially now that I feel them moving.
But back to not puking. It's liberating to be able to go out of the house and not have to worry about how many plastic bags I have stashed in the car or stuffed in my bag. That's the worst, throwing up in public.
My most public episode, however, was not during pregnancy. It was in a cute little shopping mall in Ireland. A cute little PACKED shopping mall. My family and I had gone over for my grandparents Golden Wedding Jubilee, the big 5-0. It was great, we'd never all gone at once. Always my mom would take a couple of us kids one year, then two or three years later, the other 2 or 3 would get to go. So this was a big deal, and we had such a wonderful time with everybody!
I was 17, had just graduated from high school. We were driving around the southern part of Ireland and apparently I caught a stomach bug. I thought it was the sausages I'd had for dinner the night before, and to this day cannot eat more than a bite or two of the poor, falsely-accused meats, despite the fact that several of my sisters and brother also were eventually affected. Anyway, the morning I discovered this grave discomfort, we were walking through the afore-mentioned shopping mall when the gastrointestinal woes struck. There was no time to find a restroom, the nearest garbage can would have to do. If only it had been tucked shyly behind a potted plant, or large pillar. Alas, no such luck.
It was smack in the middle of the walkway, and it was already pretty full and not very pleasing to one's sense of smell. Did I care? Not really. Despite the crowds and the stares I was mostly concerned with how terrible I was feeling. But some privacy would have been nice. There are some things that just aren't meant to be public.
Hmmm...that Ireland trip was full of little adventures. For instance, if you go to a disco (dance), and someone says, "My friend wants to meet you," what that means is, "My friend wants to make out with you." Along the same lines, to "shift" means to "kiss in a dark corner for a very long time." Just some interesting tidbits that may come in handy someday. Of course, this was back in 1997 (my ten-year reunion is next summer, crazy!), so the lingo may have changed.
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