My sister well remembers the one time I actually vomited during my pregnancy with Oliver. I was maybe 10 weeks pregnant, visiting her and her husband in Savannah. We were going to go walking at her high school's track, and so I had an apple beforehand as breakfast, not wanting to be overly full. I also took my prenatal vitamins. Maybe a lap or so around, while Laura was on the phone with an office, I threw up every bit of that carefully chewed apple on the side of the track. Laura joked that she had "broken" me.
Last week, the same thing happened, only this time, it was peaches. Ollie and I came home from somewhere, and since it was only 10:30 AM, but I was hungry, we shared some sliced peaches. And then, maybe 30 minutes or so later, they all came back up -- violently. This time, though, I was into the second trimester and worried that I'd had food poisoning or something that would hurt the baby. I didn't eat much more that day, and Wes thought that no harm had been done. Oliver, on the other hand, found the whole thing fascinating and discovered an entirely new use for the potty.
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