First Pregnancy Myth Debunked: Morning Sickness

Whoever coined the phrase "morning sickness" is an idiot. I PRAY to only have sickness in the morning. In fact, I wake up every morning knowing that at around 6:30 a.m., I'll be clutching my toilet for dear life and I'm good with that. (Note: Just when you think your toilets are clean, plop down on the tile and take another look. It's a whole new perspective from down there.) And, if "morning sickness" was actually over IN THE MORNING, that would be a blessing. But instead, I have all-day-with-a-brief-interlude-between-six-and-eight-at-night-sickness. Try Googling that.

I have tried most all of the remedies I can find online - ginger ale until I want to puke (literally), lemon water, sniffing a lemon, deep breathing - I mean, you name it, I've tried it. So, I succumbed to my last resort and made my first trip to Motherhood Maternity for what The Bump (for all you Knotties out there, this is The Knot's preggo website) message boards call "Preggie Pops." Everyone on the boards says that these things are like little miracles. That's all I needed to hear. So, off I go to the dreaded maternity store.

Let me set the scene for you. I am feeling like absolute crap. I feel like I have the worst college hangover times ten, and I'm lugging myself across the hot ass mall parking lot, sweating, on a mission for something called Preggie Pops. I make a beeline through Macy's, down the escalator, and dive into Motherhood Maternity. Literally. By this time, I am so hot and sweaty, I'm feeling like I may pass out. I can feel the cool tile beneath my flip flops and think for a quick minute what it would be like to lay my face on that tile. Aaahhhhh....

So, there I am. A visibly non-pregnant looking young woman, begging the uninterested store clerk to point me in the right direction toward the pregnant woman's opium - Preggie Pops. I ask her a million questions - do a lot of women buy these? Do they work? What's the magic ingredient? Is it safe to consume 20 pops in one day? Her manager recognizes that I'm on the brink of a core meltdown and comes to play 10,000 questions with me and deliver the news I didn't want to hear. Preggie Pops are just sour candy. That's right people. No magic nausea-relieving ingredient. No self-induced coma to relieve the dreaded stomach turning that I'm having everyday. Just. sour. candy. But, I'm so desperate, I'm willing to try anything, and I bought them anyway. $5.50 for 20 pieces of mocked-up Jolly Ranchers.