Chicken soup is a common classic comfort food that might be found across cultures. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
As I struggle to swallow because of a post-nasal drip induced sore throat, I’m tempted to wallow in self-pity. I’ve got a four-month old, I can’t be sick! What am I going to do? Yet almost immediately, the small voice of gratitude deep inside of me chimes in, crying “knock it off– at least you’re not throwing up ten times a day!”
And that voice is right. Before I had hg, I was a big baby about sickness. I wanted to be coddled, fussed over, and treated extra-special kind. No matter how teeny the physical discomfort- a stubbed toe, a stuffy nose, or even a headache- I let everyone know how I was feeling. And then I was given the most persistent case of what felt like the stomach flu, food poisoning, and pregnancy ever known to human kind: hg.
After a few months, I accepted that there was nothing I could do to get rid of the persistent nausea and vomiting that had become my life. It was then that I grew from a baby to a teenager. I stopped whining (well, stopped whining as much) and tried to be brave. I was in a war, fighting for my unborn son. I can’t say that I’m an adult regarding getting sick. I still want attention when I have the sniffles. But now I have a better perspective.
So while I’m making hound-dog eyes at my husband, waiting for him to offer to make me peppermint tea and deliver it to me in bed, I want you to know that I’m in your corner. As far as I’m concerned, a little sinus and sore throat pain ain’t got nothin’ on hg.
P.S. Are you as much of a baby as I am when it comes to sickness or do you tough it out without complaint? I’d really like to know. Post a comment below and share with your hg sisters in suffering.
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