WhitneyTo Be or Not To Be a Mother - Part Two
December 8th 2006 21:17
Every week I talked to my boss, Duke hoping that, that was the week that I’d feel well enough to get out of bed and go back to work, but it wasn’t looking so good. Not only did I have zippo zilcho energy for my fifteen month old son who had mastered the art of running and was into everything on every corner of this planet, but I felt just awful.
I couldn’t even watch a Burger King commercial without rushing to wretch over the toilet bowl. And get this, after all the nonstop vomiting I’d been through with both pregnancies, my husband (and no I didn’t remarry in-between pregnancies) was so annoyed when I asked him to change the channel during the food commercials that he actually accused me of milking my nausea. I’d lost a full scholarship to law school, the first go round, and I was on the verge of losing the best job I’d ever had, the second go round, did he think I wanted to be nauseous all the time? Would anyone want to feel as awful as I did if they had the choice?
How could he think that, I wanted to know? His answer? No, he didn’t think I was making up the whole “nonstop puck my guts out until only bile came out thing”. He was just saying that he couldn’t believe that a Burger King commercial could make me vomit.
What he meant was that he thought I was exaggerating its effects on me. And why would I do that? Did he think I was manipulating him in the hopes of landing on a channel that was showing a Preparation H hemorroid cream commercial instead? But I never said this because the truth was that back then I always thought I was wrong and everyone else was right. If he said I was exaggerating, then even though I had to run to the bathroom and do you know what, into you know where, a part of me still believed that he was right and I was making it all up because I wanted him to change the channel. Besides I knew I was no picnic in the park to be around. I had become no fun and a bad mother.
Before and in-between pregnancies I took care of the house and Josh, went to work, made social arrangements with friends and family, bought all the gifts, clothes for everyone in the house including my husband (work and non-work clothes and shoes as well), did the laundries, paid all the bills and did the banking, made all the dinners, did the food shopping, etc., etc., etc. and now what did I do? Lay in bed and puked. I knew I had become good for nothing and by my husband’s attitude I knew he felt this way as well.
I couldn’t even watch a Burger King commercial without rushing to wretch over the toilet bowl. And get this, after all the nonstop vomiting I’d been through with both pregnancies, my husband (and no I didn’t remarry in-between pregnancies) was so annoyed when I asked him to change the channel during the food commercials that he actually accused me of milking my nausea. I’d lost a full scholarship to law school, the first go round, and I was on the verge of losing the best job I’d ever had, the second go round, did he think I wanted to be nauseous all the time? Would anyone want to feel as awful as I did if they had the choice?
How could he think that, I wanted to know? His answer? No, he didn’t think I was making up the whole “nonstop puck my guts out until only bile came out thing”. He was just saying that he couldn’t believe that a Burger King commercial could make me vomit.
What he meant was that he thought I was exaggerating its effects on me. And why would I do that? Did he think I was manipulating him in the hopes of landing on a channel that was showing a Preparation H hemorroid cream commercial instead? But I never said this because the truth was that back then I always thought I was wrong and everyone else was right. If he said I was exaggerating, then even though I had to run to the bathroom and do you know what, into you know where, a part of me still believed that he was right and I was making it all up because I wanted him to change the channel. Besides I knew I was no picnic in the park to be around. I had become no fun and a bad mother.
Before and in-between pregnancies I took care of the house and Josh, went to work, made social arrangements with friends and family, bought all the gifts, clothes for everyone in the house including my husband (work and non-work clothes and shoes as well), did the laundries, paid all the bills and did the banking, made all the dinners, did the food shopping, etc., etc., etc. and now what did I do? Lay in bed and puked. I knew I had become good for nothing and by my husband’s attitude I knew he felt this way as well.
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