Morning Sickness Flashbacks

So last night I had a bunch of friends over here for one of those Direct Selling Parties.  Not something I do often, but it was fun.  We had lots of laughs together as mothers…some of us had a few sighs as we dealt with our children who were fighting …not sharingnot staying downstairs where they belong er…I mean, where they were having fun playing.

Anyhow — the night went late – and ended up with just one last friend and I sitting and chatting.  For the life of me, I cannot remember how we got onto the subject of morning sickness — but I recounted the story of my most severe “morning” sickness moment that I had while pregnant with my lovely little Adam.

Here it is for you all to enjoy — or commiserate with (there may be a bit TMI here — you’re warned!):

It must have been sometime in November.  The weather was cold, but not snowy – and there were still the hard core occasional bikers on the road.  I also can’t remember if we were on our way too or from  my mom’s house (sorry, these details are fuzzy…the others….not so fuzzy)

Anyhow – I decided to stop at Tim Horton’s (that’s like Dunkin’ Donuts for you American readers) – to get my kids a donut and hot chocolate…I really wanted a bagel.  The thing is, here in Canada, Tim Horton’s is a busy, busy place.  This one didn’t have a drive through, so I just parked and brought the kids inside with me.  The lineup was long as per usual…and I told the kids to grab a seat while I waited in line.

As happens with long lines, it moved rather slowly.  Someone ahead of me had ordered something toasted — and it got stuck in the toaster…the faint smell of burnt toast started to waft out into the restaurant.  My pregnant nose smells the offensive odor and my stomach starts to churn.

I shuffle forward a bit in line.

My blood pressure starts rising…and I start taking long slow breaths in an effort to delay what I know is coming….My ears start ringing….

I shuffle forward a bit in line.

All I can smell is burnt toast.  People are all around me…I shuffle forward more in line.  My heart is having palpitations.  I’m swallowing a lot in an effort to keep my stomach contents where they belong.

Finally it’s my turn.  By this time, I’m on the verge of blacking out…and my throat is tensing up in the pre-gag warm up.  I order 2 hot chocolates and throw my money at the cashier.  It’s inevitable - it’s coming.

I dash to the bathroom – there’s a line up, I don’t care, I bang on the door — it’s locked.  Some woman says (in that Valley High kind of way) “Um…excuse me, like, there’s a line up!”

I spy an exit next to her and dash past.  She jumps out of the way (I don’t even want to know what she thought about the crazy, rude Muslim lady with the green face running towards her with arms outstretched like a zombie)….

Then, there is fresh air on my face – it feels so good, but isn’t enough, I retch….I retch and retch — into the parking lot – kneeling on the dirty sidewalk.  I see my kids in the window of Tim’s…they’re crying…I wretch some more.

With those long, puke-filled bits of saliva hanging from my lips, I look up to see this gang of bikers slowly backing away from me.  The big, burly leader of the pack (I’m not sure if he was the leader, but he was the only one brave enough to call out to me while slowly backing away) he says to me, “Hey….you okay?”

I weakly reply, “I’m fine now….thanks.”  – I creep over to a cement picnic table and lay my face on it’s cool (and very dirty) surface.  The kids come out with their hot chocolates…my heart is returning to it’s regular beat and I can feel my blood pressure dropping.  Mr. Bike Leader says to the kids “Hey…is your mom okay??”

Iman’s still crying (but trying not to) pats at my head, which is still resting on the dirty table top, and whispers “you okay, mom?”

I grunt. — Iman translates this to “I’m great honey, tell the nice biker-man that everything’s okay”

The bikers drive away — only looking back once.  I make the kids drink their hot chocolate outside – I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle the smell of it through the car.

The whole restaurant is very pointedly watching me… “what’s the crazy Muslim lady doing now??”

When I finally feel well enough to make it back to the car, we all get in and I prepare myself to go — that’s when Isaac pipes up…”Mom…you forgot our donuts!”

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4 Responses to Morning Sickness Flashbacks

  1. C says:

    Asalaamu Alaikum

    What a story! And do you notice how everyone just assumes we are horrible people because we are muslims? The biker guy was actually more human than those miserable women in the bathroom. Good thing too that your kids didn't just stay in Timmie's enjoying their hot chocolates.

    Hey you were selling your bath products right? I still haven't finished mine. Goes to show how often I take a bath vs shower.

  2. Erin says:

    Oh….I am so, so thankful that I was never that sick. So impressed that you held on until you got outside. ;)

  3. Anonymous says:

    I have NOOOO idea how we started on this topic, but I am a very random person by nature…Gotta love the issues I drag up!! LMAO (Still would have liked to witness the whithering biker dude… :)

  4. Stella says:

    Dealing with this right now…19 weeks and still going strong, ugh! After this stint *someone* has to get fixed, sigh…Started with all-day sickness. Whoever named it "morning sickness" must have been a man! Went on Diclectin, but I was still sick so now I am onto Zofran. Fun times…NOT!!!

    With my first one, the smell of coffee was so off-putting (I usually LOVE coffee)! I could not walk into Tim Hortons or Starbucks and not feel like I was going to lose my lunch.

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