Ode to Zofran

 

Ok, time for me to out myself.

I have struggled with a terrible fear of throwing up for most of my life.  Not exactly sure why it became something I feared so much, although I think I have traced it back to a lovely midnight projectile vomit episode that woke me from my sleep when I was about four and scared the pants off of me.  It was the first time I can remember being sick like that.  Ever since then, I have had an unusually strong aversion to it- more so than the average person- 'cause lets face it: no one I know leans their head over the porcelain throne for a horribly gruesome two minutes and then declares, "God, that was fun!  Can I have another go at it?"  I was not a sick kid and in fact, can remember every time that I did throw up.  Out of my 26- almost 27 years of life, I can count the "incidences" on two hands.  Not very much.  My anxiety over this "normal" bodily function took on a whole new life, though, when I was diagnosed with a panic disorder shortly after Jake and I were married.  I had been having random panic attacks that ultimately led me to be afraid that I would throw up.  If I was anywhere in public- a restaurant, the grocery store, sitting in Starbucks even- I would start to feel an overwhelming sense of urgency to get out immediately because I was afraid I would end up throwing up in front of everyone.  Weird?  Yes, but that is me in a nutshell.  Irrational?  Very much so, but aren't all phobias?  I stopped doing anything that I thought might cause me to be sick: no working out, no eating weird food (which eventually became almost no food at all), no hanging out with friends (unless they came to our house), definitely no singing or playing in public like I used to (I don't know how on earth I would have been able to get my music degree had this happened before I finished at VCU).   To make a long story short, emetophobia- better known as the fear of vomiting- had me trapped inside my own nightmare.  Surprisingly, I learned that this is the 5th or 6th most common fear (not that that made me feel better).  If nothing else, it was reassuring to know that I wasn't the only person who had or would ever struggle with such an odd thing.

Thank God that I was able to overcome it with the help of some good meds, a good psychiatrist, and an incredible counselor.  I'm also thankful it didn't deter me from wanting to experience what I believe to be the greatest thing of all: motherhood.  Well, I can only speak as far as the pregnancy part of motherhood at this stage in the game, but you get the idea.  I was definitely worried about the morning sickness, especially considering the crappy luck my mom had.  I figured I better just brace myself for the worst, as it was probably in the genes. 

  I still remember how shocked I was to see two bright pink lines when I took my pregnancy test on that late September morning- first, because it was only our second month of trying (our first month of *really* trying), and secondly, because I just did not *feel* pregnant. I mean, where was the nausea?  We've all seen the shows on TV: woman is sitting with her husband/boyfriend at a nice dinner but then she immediately turns green, cups her hand over her mouth and runs to the bathroom to throw up.  This is always the dead give-away.  So predictable too.  Nevermind the missed period.  Too many women I've known have puked their guts up long before their pregnancy test turned positive.   My mom was so sick with me- throwing up morning, noon and night- that her doctor threatened to hospitalize her if she lost any more weight.  Nothing worked to ease the nausea and vomiting for her, and she- like so many women- suffered through the miserable first 13 weeks. (This was back before the miracle pill that is Zofran).

I remember calling my best friend later that day to tell her.  I said, "I feel great!  I still have an appetite..." (I was actually more hungry than usual at that point) "...and if I didn't have the positive pregnancy test sitting in front of me, I would never even think I was pregnant!"  And she just laughed before she said the three words that I've come to totally despise,"You just wait."  I have found, increasingly in the last several weeks, that people just love to tell pregnant women this. Friends, family, even complete strangers.  "You think you're tired now, you just wait..."  You think your boobs look big now, you just wait..."   Oh nice.  My hormones love you so much right now for saying this to me.  *Post coming soon dealing with this particular subject: The top 10 Things Pregnant Women Hate to Hear."  Get ready*  

Apparently, for most women, the nausea and morning sickness doesn't really kick in until the 6th or 7th week.  When I took my test, my period was not even late.  I got an early positive, so it put me right about 3 weeks 5 days, or something like that.  Lovely.  I started the mental countdown: 2 weeks until I feel like shit, 1 week 3 days until I begin the puke-fest, 5 days until my life as I know it is over....(okay that's a little melodramatic, but you get the idea).  I knew that this was, by far, going to be the worst part of pregnancy for me (considering everything else went smoothly).  What- pushing a watermelon through my hooha?  Yeah, no sweat.  Not compared to morning sickness.  I figure if I do throw up during labor and delivery, I'll probably be in too much pain to care at that point, but hopefully the epidural will take care of that.  At that moment, I just couldn't stand the thought of waking up every morning and making a dash to the toilet to be sick.  Or smelling something "not quite right" and gagging to the point of puking.  

So I just took it one day at a time.  Around 6 weeks, I started feeling "off" and had a significant increase in my need for coca cola.  (I still drink a little coke just about everyday now and it has been the one thing that always tasted good to me when I feel queasy).  By bedtime in the middle of the 6th week,  I was not doing so well.  By that point, I was doing anything and everything to figure out what would help the queasiness: I found that sucking on peppermints actually made me feel worse, I loved fresh lemon in water, and lived off of mashed potatoes, dry cereal, and chicken noodle soup on the worst days.  Given my history, it didn't take me long to call my OB and ask for something to help.  I did not even want to pretend to try and be strong.   I just wanted to not feel nauseous and gaggy.  (And okay, I may have embellished a little bit, but to be honest, I didn't feel like giving her my unique struggle with emetophobia).   She called in a prescription for Zofran, so the next time I found myself sprawled out on our couch at 1 in the morning in my own personal hell, I popped one of those little miracle-workers in my mouth.  15 minutes later, I was a whole new person.  

And so, my love affair with this little white pill began.  I bow to any woman that has struggled through her pregnancy without ever reaping the benefits of this drug- whether they are just mentally and emotionally much stronger than I could ever be, are blessed with intestines of steel, or just didn't have it at their disposal then.  I credit it with helping me get through the worst of those first 13 weeks and have never hesitated to sing it's praises to other newly pregnant women.  That being said, it isn't the cheapest drug to get, but it was well worth it in my book.  I never threw up, although there were a few times I felt like I could.  It didn't always take the nausea away completely, but it helped.   I still had times during the day when I wouldn't need to take it at all and could eat normally, well before I hit the second trimester.  By the 10th week, I was feeling noticeably more human and by the 13th week, I had come out of it almost completely.   This is not to say that I don't still take it now.  Occasionally, I still find myself needing one randomly.  To be honest, it's more of a security blanket of sorts for me these days, but it just helps to know it's there if or when I do find my gag reflex being uncooperative.  I think I may "stock up" on these little white wonder-pills when the stomach bug is running rampant- "just in case."

Of course, even in my greenest moments (with or without the Z-pill) I was ever cognizant of the tiny peanut-size of a reason that I was feeling so bad.  And it made me smile- it will be all but a distant memory come June. :-)