A first-time experience

I hate weekend updates. I hardly ever read them, especially if they come out on a Wednesday. So I don't blame you for skipping right past this post and moving on to that one blogger who always has a cute, unoriginal outfit on and calls herself a fashion blogger.

Here's what went down this weekend.

-It was gloriously warm weather. The tops of my thighs and my belly got a little pink.

-I had three eyelash appointments in three days. Feeling pretty good about that.

-My grandpa had some sort of episode related to a medication he was taking and was hospitalized (he's fine now).

-We ordered our crib and picked up the dresser for our boy! We assembled the dresser last night (and goofed around a little), and I filled the drawers with the small amount of baby stuff we've accumulated.

-I finally bought some all white dishes that I've been wanting for a while.

-We barbeque'd some food that would have been the envy of the neighborhood if they weren't already having their own barbeques. (Raspberry chipotle chicken, roasted veggies, and bowtie pasta)

-We went for ice cream at our favorite ice cream place and I accidentally ate a peanut butter pretzel. One pretzel, guys. For those of you who don't know, I'm seriously allergic to peanut products. I'm usually extremely careful, and the only time I ever have an incident is at an ice cream or yogurt place (something about those employees, man. They are dumb).

I was really worried that the reaction would affect the baby. I haven't had a reaction in the time I've been pregnant, so I didn't know if it would hurt him or make my own reaction worse. Because I ate such a small amount and recognized it right away, I was able to throw it up as fast as I could. Here's where I talk about my "first-time experience" as the post is titled.

I haven't thrown up in 3 months, way back when he was a tiny little thing. Now that he's big, barfing is a very different experience. When you heave, your stomach tightens. For a big baby, this is uncomfortable, and he might push back with all his strength. This will be weird for you. You can't stop throwing up, and even if you could, you don't want to because there's something bad that needs to come out. So you keep going. The pressure from the heaves and the baby kicking will make you pee yourself. Not like at church, where it's a couple drops and no one will know, but all-the-way pee. So you'll be sitting there on the bathroom floor in a puddle of your own pee, pregnant as can be, with swollen lips and an itchy throat.

I tell ya, I'd be ok if that never happened again. Let's leave the pee-yourself-to-completion scenario in the past.

Luckily, I married this guy, who sat there with me until it was over.