Sometimes, morning sickness is so bad, all you can do is laugh (weakly, before gagging). If you're suffering from it, you'll know it's raging when...
You can no longer stand the scented deodorants or soaps in the house because the chemical smell turns your stomach. You have to cover your nose on public transport to avoid smells like other people's perfume or food. As for opening the fridge or taking out the rubbish, forget it.
You vomit in the gutter on the high street for the first time since the age of 16 and everyone thinks you must be drunk at 4pm. Come to think of it, this does feel like being constantly hung over.
If one more person helpfully suggests ginger tea or acupressure wristbands, you're simply going to snap: 'They don't bloody work, OK!'
You've Googled where to buy sick-bags.
You feel like you've swallowed a bar of soap that's lathering away in your stomach and has made everything taste sour.
You find yourself opening windows everywhere you go for fresh air, even if it's freezing.
You can't bear the slightest pressure on your stomach, so you have to wear your waistbands under your tummy, even your pyjamas.
Your toddler is temporarily being brought up care of CBeebies while you collapse on the sofa, unable to move or speak.
'Morning' sickness? Sickness that comes one day and goes the next? You must be joking. This is constant!
You find yourself lying flat on the floor at social gatherings because you feel deathly sick.
The constant nausea is worse than the actual vomiting.
You can't work out if you're so tired you feel sick, or if you're so sick you feel tired. In fact, it's both. One thing you are sure of is that you're sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.
Your favourite chocolate and Chinese food tastes subtly but distinctly wrong. You really want to enjoy it, but even the thought of it makes you feel queasy.
Toothpaste is suddenly a vile substance. Brushing your teeth becomes an exercise in not vomiting and also dealing with a mouth full of weird saliva.
Talking and even breathing make you feel sick. So you feel massive achievement at having the strength to sing 'Zoom zoom to the moon' to your toddler.
Gagging and retching have become as familiar to you as sneezing and coughing.
Nothing tastes great, and you don't want to eat, but you have to, and at least every two hours.
You can't imagine not feeling sick anymore. You're counting the weeks until this sickness is supposed to go away and want to slap all the people who tell you some unlucky women have it until they gave birth.
You've changed the way you move: you get up slowly from sitting, never jerk your head, avoid bending, and generally move as slowly as possible because motion makes you retch.
You have to try to take your mind off feeling sick because even the thought of it makes it worse (sorry if reading this isn't exactly helping).
You look at joggers and can't imagine how anyone can run without vomiting.
You just want to crawl into bed and lie still in silence for as long as possible.
You feel baffled by the realisation that doctors still don't know exactly what causes the sickness or how to cure it.
Your daily routine now goes something like: get up, brush teeth, wash face, vomit stomach juices while your toddler runs around the bathroom asking you questions, to which you can just about gasp in reply: 'Mummy's not feeling very well'. Wash again, have breakfast, then vomit it all up and repeat. Lovely.