Strange comfort.

(WARNING: this post talks mostly about vomiting. Plus it's kind of depressing.)

When I was pregnant with Madeleine, I was sick constantly. That's kind of an understatement: I'd vomit something like 13 times before lunch, horking bile and weeping every single morning, shaky and tired. I'd force myself to eat a little, sip water, eat a little more, sip water. Sometimes I'd achieve a delicate balance enough to eat a decent lunch, only to throw it up again a little while later. Basically my goal was to always have something in my stomach, something mild and unassuming, so it didn't hurt when it came back up later. The addition of Zofran helped a lot, so I could at least FUNCTION, but I'd still vomit several times in the morning, once or twice in the afternoon.

Music is so tied into this period for me, and there are certain songs I can't listen to without thinking of that time - one is "Overcome" by Better Than Ezra. "Before the Robots" came out the day I found out I was pregnant with her and I hated that album so much. The one song that grabbed me was "Overcome" - and the lyrics, "I feel strange/I feel changed/Overcome/Overcome by you." How weirdly prescient this song was -- I would find out I was pregnant just five hours later that day and I never felt more strange then, and later, so so so so sick, definitely overcome by the little girl growing inside of me. Kind of literally.

Another one is "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" by Stars (pulled over in a parking lot on the way home from work on the hot, hot summer, throwing up into a plastic shopping bag).

Anything by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - that first album of theirs was out around that time, and I really liked it then, but now something about the music and that guy's voice are so tied into that constant nausea that I can't even listen to it now without feeling a little sick. It's too bad, because "Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" is a really good song.

And finally: "Company in My Back" by Wilco - Something about that steady rhythm was so lulling, so comforting and calming. Soothing. Wayland knew it had that effect on me, and one day I came home from work at lunch to find the song playing on a loop through the house because he knew I'd be throwing up at some point while I was there. And I did. And that steady, easy rhythm helped me pull it together as I rested my head on my arm, braced on the toilet seat, wiping tears from my eyes and taking slow breaths to get myself ready to go back to work.