Today begins a new series here at We Need The Eggs—Creature Chronicles will document the life and times of Creature. Creature, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet, is the person that lives in my wife's belly right now. We're very excited to be hosting Creature for his three quarters of a year stay, before he emerges and becomes Not-Creature anymore (yes, I will be using male pronouns to represent my hope that Jess births a he-Creature, and yet I will be overjoyed if we have a she-Creature). Please enjoy the crazy adventures of Creature, as well as his inevitable effect on us, Mom and Dad.
The Eve of Week Seven:
"Creature make mommy gaggy."
If we already had a two-year-old who could understand physiology enough to use the word "gaggy," that is probably what they would say about Jess.
Vomit highlights thus far: We left a large watermelon in Jess' car over the weekend. She opened up her door Tuesday morning and she swears it smelled like sour milk. She staggered away from her car and, to the horror of all our neighbors, she puked in the condo parking lot.
Then today she opened the freezer at work to behold boxes of frozen food. Yep, that was enough to do it. She was lucky enough to at least make it to the stall before the regurgitation commenced.
Now everything has a smell. She walks into the kitchen and I can see her bracing against the inevitable gag. I opened the garbage and she fled the kitchen like she was an illegal alien and INS was in the can.
It's kind of scary knowing the power that I have. If I began to describe food to her right now, any kind of food, I bet she would begin to gag. That's not something that I would enjoy doing to her, but it is a strangely tempting proposition. In fact...
Ok, fail. No gagging. "Do you know how sick you are that you just did that to me?" she said. Yeah, she figured me out pretty quick.
Anyway, Creature is giving her quite a run for her money right now. Jess has been alternately hot and cold and nauseous and queezy and just perfectly fine since Sunday afternoon. Sometimes I get desperate phone calls from her at work because she wants to tell me what or who she has just thrown up on. Then I give her a call later in the afternoon to check on her and she couldn't sound more chipper and pleased with herself.
But then again, if Jess were physically and emotionally stable during her pregnancy, how much fun would that be?
I think we're all lucky that I'm not the pregnant one.