Hello Friday: Ginger, Ginger Everywhere or Morning Sickness Pt. 2

Thanks so much to everybody who weighed in on morning sickness cures yesterday. The main suggestion was ginger and time (which seemed like a call for patience if you read between the lines). Well, as we all know, I’m not great with the p-stuff, but CH did bring home an assortment of ginger items last night.

So far the ginger-cookies with the lemon filling washed down with a Jamaican ginger beer seems to be the best solve. The only thing is that the effect wears off 20-30 minutes after the ginger items are consumed, which I suppose is why a few of you suggested eating 24/7.

But, here’s the thing, I’m officially over eating. If it doesn’t have tummy-soothing ginger or a ton of vinegar in it (pickles, salt and vinegar chips, sauerkraut) I no longer want it. It’s like my tastebuds are dead to anything else, which is sad, because we made 2 more of the Roya dishes, which I don’t feel like eating. Also, there’s a little eating holiday coming up called Thanksgiving. And CH’s sister and mom (who we’re visiting) are phenomenal cooks. Serious wanh!

As someone who has only once in her life been sick for over 72 hours, I don’t see myself remaining a good and sane (enough not to get arrested) person if this persists through next week (as it supposedly will according to babycenter.com). And though I’ve always considered by inability to accept things the way that they are an asset, right now I wish whatever mother gene allows most women to get through this without (nearly as much) complaint would kick in already.

I can’t do anything. I can’t work on my novel, I can’t get my one personal daily blog turned around in less than an hour and a half. And my scalp is really itchy and dry, because I lost my daily conditioner in London and I don’t have the energy to go to Sally Beauty (the only store with black hair products in my area of Los Angeles) and pick up some more. Also, it feels like I’ve been thisclose to crying since Wednesday, because I’m overwhelmed and scared that I’m going to be a bad mother — though according to babycenter.com, becoming terrified that you’re going to be a bad mother is yet another symptom of weeks 9-12.

Kids are great. The adults they become, in my opinion, are even better. But much like simple math, putting my dirty clothes in the laundry hamper (as opposed to dropping them on the floor), and planning my wedding, I’m finding this much harder than I thought I would.

That all vented, I’m going to go have some ginger cookies and ginger beer for breakfast now.