Morning Sickness

There’s a story I like to tell that took place while I was courting my wife some ten years ago. She was a brand new teacher in Orange County and I was still living in San Jose some 360 miles to the north. During her various breaks from school, she would hop on a plane and come up for a visit.

On one of these visits, she and I were on a date at the movies. About half way through the movie she excused herself and went to the restroom where she stayed for quite sometime.

Our relationship was serious enough that we were commuting over 300 miles to see each other, but we were still in the ‘trying to impress each other’ stage. So when I asked her if everything was OK she kept a stiff upper lip and told me she was fine.

After the movie, she told me she was ‘a little under the weather’ so instead of going to dinner I took her back to the house. She was very quiet all the way home and we had almost made it when, in a very urgent tone, she told me to, “Pull over!”

I did as I was told and pulled into the shade of a large oak tree that was hanging over the road way. The moment the car stopped she shoved the door open and began puking.

She was mortified. We all know, on the list of things not to do in front of your date, barfing has got to be close to number one. I mean I’m sure it’s above farting and definitely above sneezing a sticky snot ball down to your chin (which can actually be a great ice breaker).

The reality was I didn’t care that she was puking I was just happy that she was in my life. When we got home I made her get into her PJs and lie down. I brought her glasses of water and stale 7-up and I held her hair and rubbed her back as she knelt over the porcelain throne.

Many years later, her mother would tell me that it was after this inauspicious visit that she was certain she had met the man she would marry…she knew that a man who would take care of her when she was at her worst was probably going to be a pretty good guy to spend the rest of her life with.

Today, my wife is pregnant with our fourth child. And today I can’t overstate just how important it is for you ladies to find a man who can take care of you when you’re puking your guts out.

My wife has had some level of ‘morning sickness’ with each of her pregnancies. But this time it is really horrible.

First off ‘morning sickness’ is a totally inappropriate title for the malady she suffers. Her nausea seems to come immediately after consuming any type of food or beverage day or night and stays with her until said food or beverage finds its way into our plumbing.

There was, of course, that total guy part of me that wondered if she was faking it just to get out of doing the dishes…you know ‘playing the pregnancy card’. That was until I heard her retching. My god what a noise…It’s a sound that no human could produce on purpose…a sound that only the sudden, involuntary constriction of every single torso muscle can produce...a sound that makes you want to lose your cookies too.

We’ve tried just about every possible remedy. My wife has never let anything remotely resembling a drug enter her body during pregnancy. So we started with eating crackers before she got out of bed. When that didn’t work we moved on to ginger ale and when that failed she even tried Coca Cola. Finally, after many remedy attempts and after a trip to the emergency room to rehydrate her we even tried an anti nausea drug.

None of it has had much of an impact. Since we first found out she was pregnant she’s actually lost about ten pounds. Thankfully, both of us have developed a little bit in the way of ‘cushion’ in that regard over the past eight years so we’re not too worried as of right now. But it’s really starting to get ridiculous.

It’s so bad that she’s started to create lists of foods that taste good both on their way down and on the way back up. So far bananas are very high on the list while any kind of nut ranks on the bottom.

My wife is a resilient lady though. The consummate multi-tasker, she has figured out how to do just about everything while barfing…including driving. I hold the wheel, she works the pedals and the bag. We make a pretty good team…on very straight roadways.

As for me, luckily I’ve been a dad for seven years so I’ve become immune to the smell of bile. Though driving her around has become something of a challenge. It’s like having a severely drunk passenger all the time. I know you’ve all been there at least once…driving slowly, avoiding any kind of sudden breaking, straightening out curves as much as possible and avoiding speed bumps at all costs. And despite my best efforts I will inevitably receive a punch in the shoulder should the vehicle lurch in any manner.

Fortunately, we’re prepared for the inevitable. We’ve stashed a large box of Ziploc bags in the minivan. I can’t tell you how many curious glances I’ve received as I walk a Ziploc bag of vomit from the car to the nearest trash can. I’ve got to admit I kinda like the attention. I’ve even started crafting a jingle to sing as I stroll…sung to the tune of the Bag-O-Weed song from The Family Guy.

Bag-o-Puke

Bag-o-Puke

Everything’s better with a bag of puke!

Bag-o-Puke

Bag-o-Puke

Everything’s better with a bag of puke!

…Of course I have to click my heels together when I toss it in the can. And this is how we manage to get through it…by keeping a smile on our faces.

You know, we still look back on that date 10 years ago with great fondness. To this day, whenever we find ourselves driving past that old oak tree hanging over the road I will commemorate the day by pretending to puke all over the floor of the car. My wife will hit me in the shoulder. We will both laugh.

And here we are 10 years later…I’m still holding her hair, rubbing her back and standing ready to hand her a glass of water… and I’m still so very glad to have her in my life.