holy shlamoly

I want to say that the only thing worse than coming down with a horrible stomach bug and barfing nine times in eight hours is coming down with a horrible stomach bug and barfing nine times in eight hours when you're nine months pregnant. Yuck.

First, though, an update:

1) Antarctic Uncle and Green Thumb Auntie are visiting! Hooray! Dutch is thrilled, and tortures them every minute she can get her hands on them. I had a lovely time with them yesterday, dragging them along on my own special guided Portland tour, in which I made them come along while I did errands and ate icecream. 

2) Still no baby.

3) I got a free haircut from the Paul Mitchell School of Hair Design. My hairdresser spoke very little English, and spent a great deal of time styling my hair into a shape it will never achieve again.

Anyway, I had my first ever Public Vomit at the bus stop yesterday* (after that guided tour), and I wasn't sure if I was coming down with the stomach illness** Dutch brought home last week, or if I was in labor. That question got straightened out pretty quickly, since no baby was forthcoming. By midnight, though, I was pretty sure that Anaximander was going to have to be cut out of my dessicated corpse, and I was deliriously speculating about what kind of person I'd like to have Cook marry to be my children's stepmother. 

Being very pregnant while your intestines tie themselves into knots is really weird and awful. The Braxton Hicks contractions and Anaximander's ill-timed dance party, plus just not having a lot of room for gut gyrations, made the whole experience much more active, and unpleasant.

Poor Antarctic Uncle and Green Thumb Auntie spent the evening playing heroically with Dutch*** while I shuttled hastily between bed and bathroom. Cook cooked a meal, acted as host, and took care of me, mopping my face with a washcloth and saying reassuring things like "I love you" as I sat on the toilet, sobbing, with vomit dripping out my nose, cradling a plastic bucket of disgusting slurry.  Oh, was that too gross for you? Sorry. It was a pretty gross night. 

However, I feel better today, and have drunk some water and eaten a piece of toast. And now I'm going back to bed, having overshared with the internets yet again.

* I felt kind of bad for the people who watched the giant pregnant lady barf in the grass and then get on the bus with them. But I made it home without a repeat incident, luckily.

**Yes, the one I've been gloating about avoiding - "Oh yeah, I almost never get stomach illnesses, and I always get them more gently than Cook!"

*** I could hear things like  "HISSS!!! I'm a hisser! I'm a poisonous snake! No, I'm Darth Vader! No, I'm Princess Leia with a lightsaber!"