Aaaaah, Vomit.

Why is it that when you vomit your guts up, the best, most comfortable, most appealing thing in the world to do is lie on a cold, hard, recently (and not-so-recently) shed hair-covered bathroom floor? Seriously, post-puke, there is NOTHING I'd rather do than spread out my miserable, half-conscious body on linoleum. Aaaaaaaaaaaahhh.

Woke up this morning at 5ish. Waited in bed to see if the odd nausea would pass. It didn't, so, like the Bad, Naughty Mommy I am, I eventually hit the throne to heave it all up. And why not? No different than pregnancy, which made tossing my cookies once every few months these days look like a walk in the park.

But here's the thing...whilst I lay in bed attempting to fight the wave overtaking my body, I studied the symptoms of nausea, trying to determine at what point it would be necessary to dash to the bathroom.

I noted the following: I over-produce saliva when I'm close to vomitting, I sweat like I've been hanging out in a sweat lodge, but most importantly, I can actually feel my stomach contracting involuntarily.

And that's what made me decide to get up and let it out.

It was stomach contraction # 4. (Thank God THAT'S not a perfume!)

No idea why the need to expel the contents of my stomach - I'm certainly not preggers, and Bad, Naughty Moms everywhere thank God for that! - but I felt better after my traditional post-vomit bathroom floor lie-in, and now I'm right as rain. Random, I know.

My point was that I have finally been able to single out and specify those things that tell me vomitting will be inevitable: saliva, sweat, and stomach. The 3 S's. Watch out, ladies. You never know. (But if you've got a happy IUD, you'll know what it's NOT!)