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
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!"