The First Trimester - Week 7

Nothing Is Normal

We were overjoyed at the news, of course. We had a light dizziness at the realisation that our family plans were starting to happen, that a little "us" was quickly forming and would slip into the world early next year and change our lives. We started reading about what was happening, how it was happening, what Jas should (and shouldn't!) be eating, birthing much to absorb!

Our blueberry-sized bub actually started changing things for us pretty much immediately. Our joyful dizziness was promptly converted into nausea - "morning-sickness" - for Jas, nausea that was triggered by any movement and most smells. And to make it worse, Jas' sense of smell had suddenly become incredible. I thought this new ability was kind of cool - "Ooh, someone is cooking chips, yum!" But not Jas – especially when she picked up a disagreeable scent in within a mile's radius. She could detect so much...I couldn't smell a thing. "This place smells of tomatoes, it's making me sick".

Jas’ taste became as fickle as a spoilt cat. Preparing food became a kind of Russian roulette for me: would dinner induce dry-retching? I couldn’t anticipate the reaction. One day eggs were marvellous. The next: bleah. She wanted milk with breakfast every day...until she wanted apple juice instead. Our fridge quickly filled with stuff that was no longer tasty. Goodbye logic. My ability to provide a satisfying (i.e. digestible) meal was in the lap of the Hormone Gods.

Supermarket shopping: normally a structured affair of working to a pre-prepared list, aisle by aisle, selecting organic/healthy option/low fat items wherever possible. Much time was spent carefully checking ingredients on the back of curry jars. From our recent reading we had a list of healthy-pregnant-eating options:

YES - peaches, corn pasta, apples; NO - mangoes, sugar, red meat.

Morning sickness changed all this; eat what can be eaten:

VOMIT - Brown bread, vegetables, ginger; DIGEST - Icy pops, apples, cake. 

Our structured, almost anal, approach to supermarket shopping became something like shopping with someone who was excitably drunk; Jas was randomly dashing from aisle to aisle: "Ooh, Innocent fruit tube, what is that?", "Blueberry muffins, let's get those, I feel like those!"

Nothing was normal.

Jas’ hyper-sensitive smell was starting to mould my actions. 
"Are you wearing deodorant?!" 
"Why yes, it's the one you like". 'Hugo Boss Energise: When Hugo Attitude Meets Energy.' The Hugo Attitude had now met Jas' new hormone-powered whiffing ability. 
"Don't wear it, it makes me sick!" My saucy scent was now a sickening stench. 

So I spent a little more time cleaning the old armpits after that. But lo: 
“Did you just use the Nivea body wash?” 
“Er, yes, I just had a shower...” 
“Don’t please, it makes me sick!” 
Oh boy.

And then the nausea got worse. Much worse. Jas was house bound, needing help to do the simplest things, like making a sandwich. It had a name – hyperemesis. If normal morning sickness was like a cool winter breeze, hyperemesis was akin to a Carribean Hurricane.

Breakfast in bed was a necessity – she couldn’t get up without eating first: crackers and cornflakes were a must.  I started having dreams of lying on a beach...and would awake with crumbs in the bed!

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