This Little Traitor

Just when I thought I was having the perfect pregnancy, that the little C and I are bonding wonderfully (my plans on being a hot momma just went down the drain. literally),  …

Disgusting! The headache started last night. I have trouble sleeping at night which was probably what had brought the big V on. Some evil entity was pounding on my head all morning even during my visa interview at the US Embassy, but well, I had to put on the charms and ignore all pain for a moment (by the way, I’m going to the US. With dear hubby! But that’s another entry altogether).

But when I got to the office, it got worse.  I’m normally a glutton when it comes to bacon but this afternoon, it tasted bland.  And then suddenly, the salivating feeling came. It’s a good thing I didn’t ignore it.  I rushed to the ladies’ room (no one was there, yey), and I tried to catch my breath for a moment but I didn’t make it to the toilet bowl. It would have been so easy if it were the bowl I was hurling at. But no, of course not. I had to choose the lavatory with a faucet that was out of order.  Out came the bacon turned corned beef with yummy melon bits! (Altoids didn’t work this time, there were two white orbs amid the wreckage) And again. And again. Yuck, the smell. And the lavatory was clogged and the faucet wasn’t working and I was praying that no one enters the room.  I had to clean them out with my own hands! Eww to the 30th power!

And just when I was about done, this expat lady comes in and talks to me about some guy’s transport service, yaddah-yaddah-yaddah! And there I was, with my sour breath and all, pretending as if nothing happened. (That’s not me you’re smelling, lady). Crazier still, expat lady tried to wash her hands in the broken lavatory! Didn’t she notice the debris?

What a traumatic experience. But at least, I’ve finally manifested some pregnancy symptom. I mean, other than my belly swelling up, I felt nothing before.

But please, no more repeat performance. Please, baby, don’t do this to me anymore (you little traitor, you!).  If you can’t help it, just make sure I’m at home or something. Not in the middle of a meeting!

Hah. Just wait til it becomes into a teenage walking acne. I’m sure I’m going to feel worse.

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