She had read everything she could find about managing nausea in the first trimester, which was: eat small things often, avoid strong smells, keep ginger and sweets on your person at all times, and accept that your body has temporarily become a hostile negotiating partner with no interest in your professional commitments.
She did all of the above and was still, at ten weeks, spending approximately twenty minutes of every morning in conversation with the bathroom floor.
This was manageable. What was not manageable, in theory, was the brand preview booking that fell on a Tuesday in her tenth week, a Tuesday when the nausea was, by some meteorological alignment of bad luck, worse than it had been in days.
She went anyway.
