An Ode to Ginger Ale

Never in my life did I imagine there would be a drink that I craved more than coffee or wine.

But ginger ale has become a complete necessity to life as I know now it. It is a magic elixir, one that settles even the worst of nausea as soon as one sip.

When the doctors asked about morning sickness, they asked how I was feeling. “With ginger ale, perfectly fine. Without ginger ale, completely miserable.”

It will get worse, they told me. At about nine weeks. You might need something a bit stronger.

When the ultrasound showed I was already at nine weeks, I quickly asked – so this is as bad as it will get, right? And they nodded. Hallelujah!

Even MBH has been astounded. “You haven’t seemed sick at all,” he said, amazed. “You’ve been acting exactly as you normally do.” Which, to be fair, is pretty true. He has done the lion’s share lately of the cooking and the cleaning, but then again, he kind of always has.

On the bright side, I am glad I haven’t had too rough a go of it. On the downside, I think this is all giving MBH a rather skewed view of how tough this whole pregnancy thing is supposed to be.

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