Get Me Off The Ship

I am full-force into the nausea of the first trimester, and here is what it feels like: have you ever been seasick on a ship? Dave and I took a boat out to snorkel in Molokini Crater during our honeymoon, and I remember seeing a young couple huddled at the back of the boat. The girl was obviously seasick; the guy had his arm around her hunched back, and she barely moved the whole trip. They didn't eat the buffet spread, or swim with the fishes, or probably register the gorgeous views.

I feel like I'm that girl. The nausea is not bad enough to make me actually puke ever, but it never really goes away, so I go through each day mentally hunched over, in a mild daze. Unpredictable things make it worse: the feeling of air blowing across any part of my body. Dave moving the bed at night. The smell of the kids' hair after a bath. The artificial-sweetener aftertaste of a soda. The sound of a burp. Having to talk louder than a faint whisper ("WHAT?" everyone is always saying).

It's hard to really focus on much, between the nausea and the fatigue. I feel like most of the world just passes me by: I know the sink is accumulating hairs, but I can't be bothered enough to swipe them away. I look dumbly at the sticky spots on the floor and the stray Lego wedged behind the couch. It feels like a Herculanean effort to get up and do the most basic things: look at food long enough to pack myself a lunch. Actually help poor Dave with childcare.

The problem is, I still look normal from the outside. I'm still my old size (and unfortunately, too sick to really enjoy it while it lasts). And I'm realizing what most people with chronic illness probably realize: after a while, no one really wants to hear about your pain. No one really understands it. When "how are you feeling?" is met with the same "bad" or variation thereof every time, even you get tired of hearing about yourself.

I also struggle with questions that most people with chronic illness probably do: why is this happening? what does feeling nauseous have to do with growing new life? I know, the progesterone or whatever-- but why does it have to relate? And I have the benefit of knowing this sickness is both temporary and towards a good end, which many don't.

Maybe God is teaching me empathy for my patients who suffer from chronic discomfort. Maybe he is showing me the people in my life who love and support me unconditionally. Maybe he wants to challenge me to some new level of selflessness. Maybe he just wants me to be willing to dwell in an uncomfortable place and trust in his sovereignty.

But mostly, I just want to get off the ship. I want to press the fast-forward button for the next four to eight weeks. I want to wake up in a world where I'm not nauseous anymore and I actually have interest in things again.

(written September 30, 2014)