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Product Review: Morning Chicness Bags
I’m not a big fan of being pregnant.
At all.
I keep running into people who say they loved every second of it, and I can’t help but wonder if they are:
a) liars
b) deluded and forgot what it was like or
c) clinically insane.
Don’t get me wrong – I was blessed with two textbook, healthy, fairly simple pregnancies – but textbook doesn’t equal fun.
When I discovered I was pregnant with the Big Kid, I was commuting for two hours each day on public transit. My work day was from 8:30 until 5. I worked for a high-stress, very busy manufacturer’s rep group. Long days were filled with paper pushing, consumed with sales and customer service, and always required me to be on the ball. Newly pregnant, I felt like a train had run me over and had sent me flying into a ditch. I was so exhausted, that sticking toothpicks in my eyelids to keep them open seemed like a great plan of action. The initial queasiness gave way to full-blown morning sickness by the time I was eight weeks pregnant.
Let it be said that morning sickness is a terrible, terrible misnomer. It is ALL DAY LONG SICKNESS and everything makes you ill. I would puke the minute my feet touched the floor in the morning. I’d gag my way to the bus stop. I’d have to get off the bus to spew in the bushes along the way to work. I’d be green the entire commute to work, and then retch all the way up to my office. Usually another 30 minutes of worshiping the company porcelain was required, and I kept praying for a swift and merciful death. If it had ended there, I would have been okay, but it did not. Up came what little lunch I could force down. The grocery store smelled like it was filled with the rotted flesh of the damned. Dumpsters filled the air with noxious odors everywhere I went. My husband – who I once loved to snuggle with – was absolutely rank. This went on and on, well into the second trimester, and I was pretty certain I would spend the rest of my life bent over, throwing up behind whatever cement barrier or laurel hedge was handy.
This was the time in my life when I could have used The Morning Chicness Bag. Designed by a mother named Tara Ramos – who suffered through the torture of hyperemesis gravidarum (you should be sainted, Tara) – these discreet and compact disposable vomit bags are genius. Essentially, Morning Chicness Bags are an airline sickness bag, decked out in fun & playful prints. They allow morning sickness sufferers (or those who are suffering from the side-effects of medical treatment/medication) to avoid having to hold onto or stick your head into filthy public toilets. Which is completely something I can get behind. If you could see through my eyes, people, you’d be looking for brain bleach. There are some things in public restrooms that just cannot be unseen.
My only problem with the Morning Chicness Bag?
I wish I had thought of it first!
I always felt so bad for women who had to deal with morning sickness. Not everyone does- I was one of the lucky ones who seriously never had it. Not just selective memory here, either. I really never had it. That said, I think it’s a rare thing to go through pregnancy and birth and never have any associated pains. What I missed out on in morning sickness I more than made up for in lower back pain and full-body itching.
Pregnancy is balls even without morning sickness. With it? Forget it. It’s a wonder more pregnant broads don’t off themselves.
Can I complain about the post-partum period while I’m at it? My hips and pelvis might never be the same again. Ugh.
K.- I completely believe you when you say you didn’t have morning sickness. God decided to be merciful the second time around, and I didn’t have it at all. In fact, pregnancy with The Baby was so easy, that I didn’t clue in that I was pregnant until I was 12 weeks along. Ooops!
Anna, I remember postpartum from the first time around, and is sucked. The second time wasn’t as bad, but that was my general experience with that baby anyway.
Postpartum the first two times around was a breeze, especially after Secunda was born. Tertia’s birth is still kicking my ass, though. I guess there’s a reason they’re not supposed to come out backward.