This past week, I have been feeling morning sickness unlike the sickness I felt with Asa. It lasts all day, from the moment I emerge from beneath my covers, sloth-like and groaning in the morning light, to the hour I re-enter the dark cave of sleep and bliss. Frustratingly, I cannot stand the smells and flavors of food; the pungent herbal aroma of chicken gravy, the so-strong-you-can-taste-it invasion of garlic, the bold red meatiness of ground beef… I can’t stand any of it. I am left with very few options: fruits, bland vegetables, bare sauces with no spices to speak of, and a craving for plain potato chips and dully-flavored…