Tuesday, December 13, 2005

The perils of pregnancy

WARNING

This post contains various episodes of pregnancy induced vomiting and humiliation (almost) beyond bearing.

I finally did it. I have embarrased my child so completely, she may never recover. I will be paying mental
health professionals for the rest of her life. I'm considering setting up a trust fund for just that purpose.

While prenant with DQ, I was sick. Really sick. So sick, I dry heaved my way through my second and third trimester. I carried Ziploc bags in my purse and used them with alarming regularity. My OB/GYN was so worried, he gave me Fenergan suppositories. Those are FUN!

Missy HooHaw was considerably easier on me. I laid on the couch after work every night and let my doting husband pamper me, while I laid around feeling pretty ooky. Minimal upchuck, though. I still carried Ziplocs. Just in case.

Bundle o' Joy 3 has involved a constant but low grade ooky feeling, but only a single episode of actual upchuck. I've been pretty stoked so far. I even put away the Ziplocs. Maybe a bit to soon. Maybe I just got cocky.

Last night, we went to (another) orientation for the IB program Drama Queen will be starting next year. This is the third I've been to, but the first that allowed us to see actual classes in progress and talk to current students. I was pretty excited. Drama Queen was raring to go. She was SO excited to see actual dissection in the science class and is praying she passes the algebra placement exam. My little geek. Oh, how I love her!

Afterward, we attended a meet and greet with the principal and various teachers. After a bit, the principal made her way over to our corner, where we were talking to the band teacher about jazz band. Yes, she plays the clarinet. I told you. The principal is an older woman, dressed in a lovely black suit with sensible Ferragamo pumps; lizard, I think.

She talked to DQ for a bit and then turned to me and said, "I hear a rumor you teach special education. Did you know we're looking for a resource teacher?"
I replied that I wasn't planning on working for the next few years, since I was expecting a baby in July. She smiled and congratulated me, then turned to ask DQ how she felt about becoming a big sister. It was then that a sudden wave of nausea overtook me. I opened my mouth to excuse myself and threw up all over the lovely, expensive shoes of DQ's new principal.

Oh. my. god.

To her credit, she did not scream at me or in any way act upset/grossed out/disgusted. She actually asked me if I was okay and escorted me to the nurses office, where I laid down and tried to curl up and die. I apologized profusely and offered to pay for the shoes. (yeah, like I could afford them...but I had to offer.) She refused graciously and went to change. DQ sat silent in the corner with her face in her hands.

"Did you have to do that?" she mumbled

I apologized and explained as best I could, but she remains convinced that I did it out of reckless disregard for her middle school reputation.

"I am always going to be the girl whose mom threw up on the principal. I'll NEVER have friends. They'll be too afraid to come to my house because you might PUKE on them!"

Fun ride home. Real fun. Bring on the therapy.

1 Comments:

Blogger jennyonthespot said...

Oh. My. Gah! I'm so sorry! For you and DQ :) Ya know, in 20 years, after she's all paid up on therapy, you'll both have a real good laugh at it all!!!

11:33 AM  

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