I think the first morning I threw up was 7 weeks on the nose. While unpleasant, this "vomiting" was actually not bad compared to what I was in for down the road. For the first couple weeks, it was limited to 5-10 minute dry heaving sessions first thing in the morning. This is uncomfortable, and in no way enjoyable, but it is nothing compared to 1) throwing up actual food (in my opinion) and 2) needing to throw up/dry heaving multiple times and at unfortunate times throughout the day (work) or at night (say, right after you eat a nice, thoughtfully prepared dinner either cooked yourself or by your husband... that SUCKS. What a waste of good food, for starters...)
I have never been one of those people who could "puke and rally," as we referred to it in college. When I get sick, it is gross. In the early weeks of morning sickness, I actually wanted to throw up. I have since changed my mind. Yes, it is miserable to be nauseous all the time and unable to do much about it, but it is equally as miserable, physically painful at times, and significantly more inconvenient to actually be throwing up/dry heaving on a (fairly) regular basis, sometimes sudden or unexpectedly.
It is even more of a problem when you get to the point where you can't keep food or fluids down, and in my case that is when I had to start taking medication. I was reluctant to do so for a variety of reasons, but it turned out to be the best thing [minus a few uncomfortable side effects, more on that later].
After probably pushing a little too hard on my annual business trip to Vegas, I got home this week and was unable to keep anything down except plain egg noodles between Wednesday and Saturday. I left work early on both Wednesday & Friday, and didn't go in at all on Thursday. I knew I couldn't go on missing work, or feeling this bad, so I called my doctor's office and got a prescription for Zofran. [which I would end up continuing to take 1-2x/day for the next 2 months, when FINALLY my morning sickness would wear off and I started to feel pretty good (read: somewhere in the realm of close to normal) again.]
Anyway, at 7 weeks, we told my parents that I was pregnant. I kind of botched the whole telling my dad thing, because I work with him, and was feeling so bad, I just went to his office and told him. It was kind of funny, actually. I was a crying mess (hello, hormones!), and he had pretty much figured it out already, because we had three dinners/events (work-related) that I did not drink at all (even though I'm working, I would normally have had a glass of wine at least). We decided to tell my mom on Mother's Day, which was fun, and lifted the weight of trying to keep it a secret, since I had already told my dad, and I do see my parents a fair amount. Though quite surprised, my parents were (are) very happy & excited. I am an only child, so this will be their first grand-baby!
We decided not to tell my in-laws until a little later [which ended up being much later] as we didn't have any planned gatherings, and initially did not want to tell people until the end of the first trimester, as that is when you are more "in the clear" of certain complications, and the likelihood of miscarriage goes way down.
We had our first appointment with a nurse practitioner on May 24th (9 weeks) where I had the oh-so-fun annual pap (I was about 6 months overdue), got the whole spiel on do's and don't's, and the packet from the hospital, as well as a surprise ultrasound when she was unable to find baby's heartbeat with the doppler (not uncommon this early on).
Here is a photo of our little gummy bear baby, who waved "hello!" and wiggled around quite a bit. He/she measured about 1 inch long (so tiny!) and perfectly on schedule for my estimated due date of 1-2 days after Christmas, with a heartbeat of 175 beats per minute (BPM).
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| Yup, that's a baby! |
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