They're baaaack

It begins with a gently unpleasant stirring in the pit of my stomach, a slight sour taste in the back of my throat.

I'm slumping on the couch, in exactly the pose not recommended by the physio who took our antenatal class, proofreading an article.

Then there's a sudden, all-too-familiar rising and I run like I haven't run for at least four months.

Same position, different venue - bent over the front verandah railing, splashing vomit onto the pebble walkway below.

I thought all this was behind me?

It's much harder to heave with an extra fifteen kilos of belly, I tell you*

*Yes, it's supposed to be fifteen kilos by now, with twins. I've had enough of that sort of comment from the grandmothers, thank you.