So, months ago, before Josh and I knew that I was pregnant, we bought tickets to a Mets/Yankees game for last night. We were so excited. Josh is a big Mets fan, and I have always loved the Yanks, so this was going to be such an awesome game for us to go to! We bought tickets for one of Tom and Jerry's bus tours, which eliminates the headache of driving in the city and trying to find a place to park, etc. Last year, Josh surprised me with tickets to a Yankees/Tigers game, and we had such a blast on the bus trip that we knew we wanted to do it again.
Well, insert the pregnant variable, and the fact that we got to see A-Rod hit one out and Jose Reyes (finally!) get thrown out when trying to steal second suddenly fades into the background. Way, way into the background. My pattern of nausea lately has been that it hits at 8:30 p.m. almost on the nose, without regard to how full or empty my stomach is or what I last ate. We realized this about a week ago, and I'd been kind of nervous for how this trip was going to go. I prepared all that I could, eating lots of snacks on the bus on the way there and drinking plenty of water, etc. Josh even made a big food run before the game started because we knew that the stadium was going to get packed out pretty quickly.
The official game clock read 8:10 when I first started to feel it coming on. Keep in mind that we were all the way up in tier seating, it was about 900 degrees out, and we were at a SUBWAY SERIES GAME. Meaning, it was body to body people in there, and not only did that increase the general temperature of the air around us, but it made it very difficult for a [pregnant] person to run and get something to eat, or drink, or some fresh air, or hey - to go puke. Let's not kid ourselves here. Thankfully I never actually vomited, but man oh man, did I sweat. And I felt queasy, and...... kind of claustrophobic. It was rough. I had eaten my way through the tray of food Josh brought (a hot dog, lemon ice, two bottles of water, and a pretzel), so I stumbled down the nearly vertical steps of the tier to try to find something that appealed to my queasy stomach. I didn't have much luck.
The game was kind of disappointing on other levels: I mean, the Yankees won (Go Yanks!), but the Mets just sort of laid down and took it. Jose Reyes had been stealing bases off Posada all weekend, I think five in all (one of which was third!), but he got thrown out at second last night. David Wright snapped his hitting streak, and Reyes didn't even come close to legging out a triple. Bobby Abreu did, but only by taking advantage of the rookie factor in the Mets' left fielder. Gomez misplayed the carom off the wall, and Bobby was able to get to third. Ah, I guess that was kind of exciting.
By the time we followed the stream of people out of the stadium and onto the bus, I was sticky, queasy, and irritable. I wanted to yell at the people sucking down nicotine sticks on every corner. I was annoyed by the flute player in the five bazillion degree, plastic-enclosed tunnel that gets you to the parking lot. The guy from our bus trip who insisted on getting off the bus and spraying his entire body with some sort of Axe (although I have to admit I am thankful he didn't end up STINKING). The incessantly thoughtful woman who offered me a cherry soda to "settle" my stomach. And, oh glory, the pleasantly overweight woman in front of me who thought it would be just fine to recline her seat allllllllllllll the way back into my knees. That, my dear readers, was a HELL of a trip home. We rolled into the parking lot at our mall about 3 a.m., I just about sprinted to the car, reclined MY seat all the way back, and just cried for a minute.
I am so, so, so, so, SO sick of being ...sick. It is exhausting. It's depressing. It's not even fair. And you know what the worst part of it is? My Joshua, my poor, dear husband, bears the brunt of it because most of the time he is the only one who is aware of it, and he's certainly the only one close enough and involved enough to have any desire to try to DO anything about it for me. I just love him. I think it was probably kind of a miserable night for him, being that the Mets lost AND I was no kind of companion.
I'll have to owe him one. :)
2 comments:
Hey Beth, so sorry you were feeling so crummy on what you had hoped to be a fun evening...have you tried peppermints? I ate those starlight mints like crazy (I am talking BAGS and BAGS of them through my first trimesters, both times) and they helped. I kept them in my desk at work, in my car, in Shawn's car, in almost every room, etc. A friend told me the spearmint ones worked for her, but they didn't do anything for me. But those peppermints, did. I hope they might help you. Boy, once you start feeling better, it will just hit you one day...you will say to yourself hey, I went to bed without feeling like I was going to lose dinner tonight! And then from that point on, you will probably feel great. More energy, too! We are so excited for you and Josh...
Thanks for the idea! Peppermint and spearmint have both been kind of nauseating to me... (weird, I know) but for some reason, WINTERGREEN is fine. Ha ha. I bought those pink Canada mints after your suggestion (they're wintergreen) and they have actually worked a couple times! It's nice to have something to try, anyway. The midwife also recommended I try vitamin B6 tablets. We'll see... :)
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