The Fickle Pregnant Belly

knockedup — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 18:31:00 GMT

Yesterday, my husband was sick. Supposedly. No, really, he was. He couldn't eat anything and he kept gagging. It's possible he threw up a little. Sound like anything else? Yeah, pregnancy.

I was not very sympathetic, because that's how I've felt every day for the past four weeks. Try having a little tailed being growing inside of you and having to run at the sight of cheescake and trying not to puke on your child as you give him spoonfuls of the amazingly pungent Rasberry Pear Yo Baby, I wanted to say, but didn't. Instead I very maturely slammed cabinet doors and ignored him. I should not be whining, because I am much better off than some pregnant women who are visiting the porcelain shrine multiple times a day. I am just a tad uncomfortable. A coworker told me it's like being hungover constantly, but without the fun of dancing and margaritas. It's a hangover that I didn't even get a chance to earn.

Sean is better today. I am still pregnant - apparently, the little bean is now the size of a grape. Or an olive in a dirty martini I can't drink. In the last few days, my stomach has been doing very weird things, like wanting to eat a BLT with Avocado and spicy mustard on wheat bread right now, though it's 9 am. The guy at the deli used white bread - I have an aversion to white bread even when I'm not pregnant - but I focused on the bacon and the mustard and it went down OK. I also have had cravings for sharp cheddar cheese, Swedish Fish, chicken with extra chicken on top, and anything with lemongrass or capers. These are not the sort of mild cravings that I can ignore. They are aggressive, beasty, hyena in heat cravings. I go from wanting to puke and thinking that red velvet cake with thick icing should be banished from a five-mile smell radius, to needing to eat three Cup 'o Noodles, as my appetite tries to compete with that of every adolescent boy in the Denver Metro area. Yum, Cup o Noodles....

Since I'm a little emotional, my reaction to thwarted satisfaction of cravings is not very reasonable. Last time around, I wanted jalapenos. On everything. If I could've eaten jalapeno pancakes smothered in jalapeno syrup washed down with a jalapeno shake, I might have done just that. At Whole Foods, I requested jalapenos on a sandwich. There were no jalapenos. The sandwich maker looked at my seven months pregnant belly, and said, "Wait a minute, let me check in back." He emerged with a jalapeno! I could've leapt across the counter and kissed him, had he not been toting a rather large knife.

Maybe because I don't look pregnant, just bloated, my recent attempt to satisfy a craving at Whole Foods did not work as well. I wanted a chicken burrito bowl. Alas, one cannot get chicken burrito bowls unless it's after 11 am, because the rice and beans and such are not yet ready. This is very reasonable, unless you live in pregnant world, in which case it makes you want to sit down on the floor and cry. Instead, I wandered through the store until I came across something else - chicken posole soup - that made me almost as happy as a warm bowl of rotisserie chicken mixed with beans and rice and lots of salsa.

Damn, now I want a burrito bowl again.

What did you (or your baby mama) crave during pregnancy?

Knocked Up : tails

The Fickle Pregnant Belly