Hello, my name is “Bubba”

bubba watsonYou may have notice I’m referencing to my uterus as “Bubba”.

If you’re super excited to hear the back story – wait no longer!

Actually, it’s a pretty short story. Basically, I went to the doctor the Thursday that the Masters golf tournament started. So Chris and I decided that we’ll name the baby after who ever wins the masters.

(side note – Chris is a huge golf fan. Also, I was so miserable and sick, so watching golf for 4 solid days on TV seemed to be acceptable at the time)

I was secretly hoping for an Adam Scott victory, since “Scott” was my #1 boys name.

I was getting a tad nervous since Jonas (Yo-Nas) Blixt was really high on the leader board. Also a Miguel was golfing quite well all weekend. I’m pretty white, so a baby “Miguel” might spark a lot of confusion.

However, thankfully Bubba Watson was victorious, and little Bubba was ‘born’.

3 months later, we found out little Bubba was a girl. However, the name is 100% perfect, so I’m keeping it up.

Aunt Michelle is not enjoying the girl name ‘Bubba’, but we’re sticking to our guns. Maybe when she’s born and has a REAL name the Bubba nickname will fade away … we shall see!

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Pregnancy is gross – part 4

Actually, this should’ve really been post number “2”. You’ll get my pun later …

Flashback to late April. I’m still in the miserable phase of the first trimester, but Chris and I have BIG Saturday plans! His entire family is going to Epcot, and 2 friends are also in town!

So what is actually to blame for what happened later this evening?
– Is the entire roast beef Earl of Sandwich I devoured at lunch time?
– Is it just hanging around Eric and Beth?
– Is it the accidental sunburn?
– Was it too much walking at Epcot?

Either way, no offense to Eric and Beth, I’m going to stay away from all these things for next couple of months just to be on the safe side.

Around 11am that night I wake up and have to puke. Now, this is already a first for me. Normally I just puke during the day, it hasn’t actually woken me up before.

Midnight – I wake up again to throw up.

1am – I wake up again to throw up. By now this is getting to be a super annoying pattern, so I force myself to eat some crackers and water so I’ll have something to puke at 2am.

2am – I puke up the water and crackers

3am4am5am … still puking EVERY hour ON the hour!

(Note – this is the first day Chris has to wake up for his new early shift at work at 5:30am, so, poor guy, he got 0 sleep that night)

By 5am (and the 6th puke in a row) I realize I can’t keep this up. I’m either going to the hospital or fixing this myself.

Since I’m blazing hot, I strip down, hop in the cold shower and pop in a Zofran. Zofran is some medicine that was supposed to help the nausea, although every other time I’ve taken one, I’ve IMMEDIATELY thrown up. I figure this time I’ve got nothing to loose.

I sit down in the shower for about 20 minutes and let the Zofran melt in my mouth (it’s a melty medicine). I keep it down for once, get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my wet head, and try to get some sleep.

YOU THINK THE GROSS STORY IS OVER … not even close!

(ok, so I’m in bed naked since I’m so hot, and I’ve got a towel wrapped around my head … these are important elements of what’s next …)

I manage to sleep for a few hours and wake up around 8am. I look at my phone, and start flipping thru facebook, when …

… I shit my “pants”.

And by “pants” I mean, I’m naked, so I’m just pooping in the bed. It’s just coming out uncontrollably and there is nothing I can do about it.

I grab the towel that’s thankfully still around my head, shove it down “there” to grab “it” and run to the bathroom.

Thank goodness for that towel!

Although, some did spill out on the floor along the way.

And that my friends, is the day I pooped my pants! πŸ™‚
poopy-love

I’d oddly happy with my story. I mean, almost every guy I know has a “I shit my pants story”, but how many girls have one? I feel like I’m part of a new club.