The Joy Of Vomit

Great news: Sarah vomited today!

She has morning sickness, and not before time. She’s more than seven weeks into her pregnancy now and morning sickness had already come to her by this stage of both her previous pregnancies.

Its absence this time around had both of us perturbed, me more than Sarah. In women who are prone to morning sickness, a lack thereof can be an early sign that the woman is going to miscarry. There’s no law that says that a woman who has suffered from severe morning sickness during her first two pregnancies will also suffer from it during her third, but it does seem to work that way for most women.

I’m a pragmatist at the end of the day, so I would tell Sarah in the mornings, “Either miscarry or start puking!” Whilst perhaps not the most sentimental line ever uttered by a man to his spouse, she understood my concern and managed a smile in return. I’ve always had my doubts about this pregnancy, anyway. Without wanting to embarrass the girl, let’s just say that we were both surprised that she got pregnant when and how she did.

Not that a toilet bowl full of chunky bits is a guarantee of anything, but it makes me feel a lot better, even if Sarah’s not exactly chuffed about it. “You fucker,” or something to that effect, was her considered verdict when she emerged from the toilet and saw the grin on my face. The pregnancy is that much realer to me now, when before it was just a purple stripe on a bit of overpriced blotting paper.

I’m more inclined to start rereading my book on weekly foetal development and racking my brain for names now.