a brief interlude (die, morning sickness, die!)

the baron has been thinking about the next part of her story - the pregnancy story - but frequently finds herself unable to complete her thoughts. she wants to write about the process of having a baby (complicated by her medical history), about this one more adventure she and the husband will undertake.

but, reader?

the baron is sick. so sick, in fact, that she white-knuckles it through most days, barely making it into the early afternoon before having to leave work for home. it's the morning sickness.

(an aside: please, spare the baron any advice you have about remedies for morning sickness, for she has tried them all. ginger pills, ginger tea, ginger ale, 7-up, bland foods, zofran, lemon slices, sea sickness bands, laying down, excercise... all of it amounts to nothing. well, nothing but the same nausea.)

the baron has never, really, been one to think about food. she's vegetarian, and she likes organic things on principle, so there's been that aspect to her dining habits for the last 10 years or so, but beyond that... she pretty much has always eaten when and what she wanted.

but.

for the past 6 weeks, the baron has been obsessed about food. OBSESSED. she thinks about it all the time, from the moment she wakes up to about 30 minutes before she falls asleep. what to eat, and when did she last eat, and does she have at hand what she wants to eat? and will this thing that she's eating stay down? and if it doesn't what will she eat instead?

she unable to eat the same thing more than two days in a row, which means that, reader? if you're talking to her, it might appear that she's listening, but really she's thinking about something new to eat. at first it was bagels with cream cheese, then grilled cheese sandwiches, then edamame, then sourdough bread toasted with butter, then chicken wings, then top ramen, then grape nuts cereal, then corn pops, then corn flakes, then honey combs, then smoothies, then soup from a can. now she's onto microwave dinners - enchiladas turned out to be a disaster, so she's trying pasta with cream sauce. also, last night she had a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich on white bread, with mustard. notice, please, the total absence of fruits and vegetables. such is the joy of pregnancy.

there are times, though, when nothing sounds good, when the baron sits in her office or lays in her bed and tries her best to imagine something to eat, because reader? the only thing worse than the nausea is being hungry AND nauseous at the same time. while the nausea does occasionally lead to actually throwing up, hungry AND nauseous guarantees that the baron will keel over the toilet (or a sink, or her office trash can, or whatever plastic bag is handy, or - this one unfortunate time - the husband's tropicals planting bed) and vomit up bile.

this is tricky, beacuse it means that the baron can never let herself get hungry. which means that she has to eat every 90 minutes or so. which means that every 90 minutes, she's faced with the difficult task of imagining what, GOOD GOD WHAT, to eat.

she can barely function throughout the day, between thinking of eating, eating and slamming shut her office door to express whatever she's just eaten into the trash can. she can barely sit through meetings without having to hunker down and exhale deeply through her mouth to beat back the nausea rising up her esophagus. she can barely think of what to write here; most days she doesn't even remember that she has a blog, such is the joy of pregnancy.

however, she's trying. to write. so be patient, and bear with her.