Death warmed over

I woke up this morning and didn't feel so hot. Instead of doing my normal routine and hanging out on Facebook, I opted for a movie on TV and some Saltines (breakfast of champions, right?). A commercial came on for a puppy pee pad. It's this little turf pad you can buy and put it in your house for your pup to use instead of going outside to do its business.

This.made.me.want.to.vomit.

I barely had time to get to the bathroom before I tossed my biscuits (or should I say crackers?). I threw up so hard that I peed my pants (I later learned this had a term for it: vomiss). Not exactly something to be proud of. I hopped in the shower and threw up again. I got out of the shower and threw up another time.

This was essentially how the rest of my day went. The puppy pad wasn't what caused me to throw up. I had really dived head first into the wonderful world of morning sickness. Five days since the last time I threw up... I thought I had escaped it.

At 4:30 this afternoon, I found myself praying that I would stop throwing up long enough for us to make our trip out to the lake. You see, Rusty's parents have a cabin on a lake that is about 2 hours away. We had invited our friends to go out and visit and we were leaving at 5 o'clock.

My "all day" sickness was bad enough that I had to sit in the front seat of our friends' minivan. I found myself carsick at nearly every turn. I somehow survived the two hour trip to the lake without yacking all over the dashboard.

I've heard people say at the beginning of their pregnancy, "I wish I had morning sickness so I could just feel pregnant."

No. You. Don't.