Ick

This morning brought my first experience with the dreaded morning sickness. It wasn't full-on, as in... well... I was able to control myself since I was driving in traffic with a talkative teenager. But I did give her a very brief lesson on pregnant people getting sick and explained that she shouldn't be scared if I pulled over and puked. She said it'd be okay. Luckily it didn't come to that, but man it was close.

I think the problem was that today was the first day I've skipped breakfast altogether. I usually have at least something, even if it's just a big glass of juice, but today it was nothing. Big mistake. Despite Jonathan's best efforts to tell Sesame Seed to calm down on his way to work, I knew it was the progesterone surging through me, making digestion slow and making me queasy. So I wasn't mad at lil' Sesame.

I was excited, because it means (I think) I'm still pregnant. I have actually wished for some small bit of morning sickness as a reassurance that Sesame is still growing in there, but when it hit I questioned my sanity at wanting to feel that icky.

So in honor of this monumental day, I encourage you to listen to one of my all-time favorite Beck songs, Nausea (sorry, I can't embed it).