I Want To Barf!

Gestation: 15 Weeks

What no one tells pregnant women is that the only way to abate the continual nausea that drones in your body, akin to the ominous low hum that continually drones in Taos, New Mexico, is to eat. 

To eat a lot. 

And not green leafy vegetables and legumes. No. You must eat dough. 

A Cinnabon, for instance from the Cinnabon counter located conveniently next to Baby Gap where you’re finagling your toddler Clare, who won’t eat, to try on shoes.

You can smell the Cinnabons cooking and cooling through the walls of the Baby Gap, which is nothing to brag about because you’re pregnant. 

You could smell a fart on Mars when you’re pregnant. 

You try to ignore the buttery, icing-y, lard-ass making scent. But you’re drawn to the Cinnabons the way you were once drawn to men-who-cheat.

At the counter they have little, tiny Cinnabons on display. They’re about one-fourth the size of the regular Cinnabons. The size of the hole that is cut out of a doughnut. 

Only Cinnabons don’t have holes cut out of them so it’s hard to say where these mini-Cinnabons came from? From whence they were spawned? 

It doesn’t matter. 

You don’t order the mini-Cinnabon, how could you when the big, fat, fatty, grown-up Cinnabons sit right next to them?

You’ll only eat half, you tell yourself. You’ll put the other half in Clare’s grasping clutches. Yet with each bite of the Cinnabon your nausea is smothered, pressed down by a wall of glutinous fat.

Sadly, you’re not the kind of pregnant woman who vomits when nauseous. 

The only way to feel better is to absorb the nausea into the thick greasy bread, to digest it with your stomach acids and distribute it in the fat cells along your outer thighs.

If you can’t find an excuse to go to the mall, you can simply make a facsimile of the Cinnabon at home.

Duncan Hines has an especially good can of cinnamon rolls you can just pop into the microwave and eat in their entirety after only thirty seconds of cooking.

Forty, if you must allow them to cool.

You eat carnivorously, rapaciously, unceasingly. 

You buy the outraged Clare her own Cinnabon, so you can focus on the eating task at hand. You enjoy the respite from your roiling guts. 

But, you know it won’t last long, because as soon as the fat is digested the nausea returns. 

Each time you hope it will have gone forever, but up it starts, first with just the merest hint of queasiness, which you delude yourself into thinking is a passing bout of acid reflux. 

You can’t kid yourself for long, because soon the nausea reaches your throat.

Saliva pours into your mouth, triggering a gag reflex and you’re inundated again by the need and inability to barf. The only remedy is more sticky dough. 

A vicious circle. The dance of death.

5 thoughts on “I Want To Barf!”

  1. I love this! I am in total agreement about the Cinnabun/BabyGap. I always thought it was plain old cruel to strategically place it next to the one store I frequented daily to do returns and see what was now $12.99 or $6.99.
    Now that we are not at the the mall daily or even weekly, on our last stop we decided ahead of time to have a Cinnabun for dessert. GONE! We were frantically running about looking for the new location. NOTHING!!!!
    I thought everyone fell helpless to the draw of the Cinnabun. I guess not!
    Afterall this is LA.

  2. Its really a nice and informative blog..
    I wanna some information about Tubal reversal..
    Mothers who had done Tubal Ligation to stop pregnancy can become a mother again after Tubal Reversal..
    For more info chk this
    Tubal Reversal

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