I felt good. After all, it was Friday night and the entire weekend lay ahead of me. Hubby was home and I was feeling well enough to venture out of the house and attempt to have dinner at a restaurant in the neighborhood. I still didn’t want to go too far from home, just in case.

So, we headed to Zippy’s. Did I want to play it safe and have the saimin? Or be brave and have a bowl of vegetarian chili? I figured that the chili had more substance to it and perhaps more nutrients than a bowl of saimin (starch, sodium, and liquid), so I took the plunge and ordered the chili.

When it came, the aroma did not offend and I managed to eat nearly all of it — scooting the kidney beans to one side of my bowl which ended up being quite a sizable pile by the time I was done. So daring was I, that I even ordered a bowl of chocolate ice cream for dessert. Unfortunately, I was only able to eat half of the ice cream before the full feeling in my stomach reminded me that moderation is key, especially when my digestive system is in such a fragile state. I left feeling quite proud of myself, that I was finally able to sit down in a restaurant for a meal (like a normal person!) and I didn’t even have to run out of the room in a gagging fit. And, even more remarkably, I was able to eat dinner for the first time in MONTHS. Was this the turning point that I was hoping for?

Hubby and I visited the Borders Express where he picked up a martial arts magazine and we perused a baby names book. We had already picked out names, mostly for the way it rolls off the tongue with our last name. We knew our choice for a girl’s name would not be in the book, so we looked up the boy’s name, Brandon, and discovered that it means sword. Sword? A little disturbing for a peace-loving gal like me. So, we thumbed through the book and pondered other possible names. None really caught our eye and by the time we were on the “V” section, I was starting to get that telltale lump in my throat which basically meant that it was time to call it a night.

As soon as I got home, I headed straight for the toilet and lost my entire Zippy’s dinner. Unfortunately, it never tastes good the second time around. This was perhaps the worst barf session of my pregnancy thus far and one that does not bear repeating.

Lesson learned: Don’t push it.

From now on, until my 24/7 sickness takes permanent leave, I will eat cautiously and continue to forgo normal-sized dinners. For now, I’ll settle for a small bowl of cereal or a piece of fruit after 6 pm. Nothing heavier than that or risk more episodes like tonight’s. And, God knows, we don’t need any more of those.

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