To which I reply with barely any chagrin, "Sorry (still unnamed) kid, I love you and all and I'm glad the ultrasound showed you are growing some hair, but the #1 spot on the most excited about delivery list goes to......FOOD"
If there was one thing in life I loved pre-pregnancy it was food. I love love love food. I love to eat pretty much all the time. I love sushi and nachos and cheeseburgers and pad thai and noodle bowls and pizza and vegetable plates and green juice and spaghetti and cheese and grapes and turkey sandwiches and prosciutto and wow the list is never ever ending. I love going to restaurants. I love planning meals with JTS.
(O.k. I'll get on with it.)
Around Week 7 my taste buds started to Benedict Arnold me (oooh Eggs Benedict!). It started simply enough with a craving only for carbs and baked potatoes. O.k. I thought, this we can handle. I had some mild nausea and the carbs + jolly ranchers kept that feeling well under control. And baked potatoes are pretty good. And I gained 3 pounds pretty quick.
But by Week 10 everything went haywire. Too much nausea. Uncontrollable nausea which led to uncontrollable vomiting. No cracker or ginger gum in the world could cure this. Then the hospital for 4 days where they wouldn't let me eat anything other than broth and lemon italian ice, which was o.k. at the time except I lost 10 pounds.
And it's been a long row to hoe after I got home from the hospital. For several weeks all I ate was an Ensure/Fruit Smoothie JTS would make that I could get down and not totally hate. That coupled with crackers or toast and some fruit. FOR WEEKS. And that was all I could handle.
For 7 months my ever shifting tastes (or lack there of) have led me to really not care much about food at all. When all you eat for 2 weeks is Campbell's Chunky Sirloin Burger Soup (and then the next 2 weeks are Eggo Waffles) you lose faith in humanity. (Jesus Congress! Figure out the sequester! Pregnant women are living on waffles and Yoplait- you can figure it out!)
I now look at all possible food intake for the following: 1) How many calories do you have, kind sir, and 2) How will you taste coming back up?
This usually leads to ice cream.
Nothing, absolutely nothing tastes good. Not even whole pats of butter.
What? Butter doesn't taste good?
Everything tastes sour and then leaves a sour taste. My taste buds only recognize extreme versions of salty and sweet. I'm now into cereal, carnation instant breakfast, pineapple, cherry pie with ice cream, and whatever JTS makes for dinner which is usually a real meal. I plow through my "meals" with determination to gain calories. That's all. Oh and because my stomach is now somewhere up around my lungs or throat a couple of bites is all this girl can handle at a time.
DELICIOSO! The entire food network just collectively shuddered. Jacques Pepin weeps. The Barefoot Contessa probably couldn't think of one thing to make for our picnic.
So this is what I will be singing from my hospital room - stitches be damned!
Little Drawler should understand since she has been stealing all my calories since about week 10 but I don't expect that kind of empathy until she goes to college.