When the Supermarket Becomes a War Zone


My 11:45 appointment at the OB today turned into a 3-hour ordeal for no particular reason beyond the necessary adjustment to life with the local yokel doctor. (Bean is fine, even starting to look like a person instead of an amorphous blob, measuring on track, 10w3d.) This disrupted my high-maintenance eating schedule of snacks every 2-3 hours to stave off vomiting because only in the bizarro-world of the first trimester does frantically ripping the dry bagel out of the grocery bag before I’ve even left the parking lot serve as a remedy to uncontrollable dry heaving.

As you may have already inferred, my first stop post-doctor was the grocery store in search of something bland since our fridge is empty, cold cuts are off limits, and visions of all other forms of take-out made me, well, if I talk about it I might throw up. In my former life of lemon-dressed arugula salads and sesame-soy soba noodles, food shopping was a delight, lingering over the vivid colors and perfumes in the produce department, selecting the prettiest whole chicken to be roasted with garlic and rosemary. Not today. Today I strategically raced through like the protagonist in a video game, weathering the stinking fish of the seafood department while trying not to hurl in the pasta aisle, dodging slow-moving fellow shoppers to survive with nausea-quelling nourishment but without vomitous spectacle. As I slowly wilted in the check-out aisle under the peppermint stench of sugarless gum, I looked down at the belt–canned soup, tater tots, white-flour bakery rolls, frozen chicken pot pies, all the makings of a public school lunch menu–I thought I might have somehow morphed into a middle-aged bachelor.

Some day when I don’t spend nearly all my waking energy trying to keep the contents of my stomach where they belong, I will give this kid the nutrition he needs. For now, feeling sick and tired of feeling sick and tired is something that literally makes me cry sometimes, but the tears are probably just hormonal too!

22 thoughts on “When the Supermarket Becomes a War Zone

  1. “Have you ever cried because you’re so hungry and you want something delicious but you know that whatever you’re about to eat is just gonna get thrown back up?” –my boss said this to me, and she is definitely not alone in her sentiment!


  2. I’ve so been there. I lived on bagels for a couple months and never realized how much work it could be to eat so frequently to stave off nausea. Kudos to you for making it through the grocery store without hurling. And while it might not seem like it now, your lemon-dressed arugula salad days shall return šŸ™‚


  3. Oh, I remember this very very well. Weeks where the only thing I could stomach was banana bread with a zofran chaser. I can’t stand banana bread anymore before of that. Feel better!


  4. The best thing is when something sounds super delicious and then you take a bite and it’s the most repulsive thing in the world but you just spent ages wrangling that food and have no energy for another. Yeah. The best.


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