I remember when I got pregnant with Miss H, I anticipated all kinds of crazy food cravings. Pickles and ice cream, anyone?
I had a strong hankering for red meat, which up until that point in my life I rarely ate, and there was one night where I desperately needed pecan pie with bacon on top (don’t ask), but otherwise, I can’t say that I truly craved anything.
But boy was I completely grossed out by most things!
I think maybe that is where the idea of pregnancy cravings come from? There is so much that sounds terrible that the few things that sound appealing become your “cravings.” I mean, that is definitely a more positive spin to say “I’m really craving a cheeseburger” as opposed to “Literally the thought of any other food other than a cheeseburger makes me want to vomit in my mouth.”
Or maybe I’m an anomaly. But that’s doubtful.
With Miss H, I mostly could only stomach red meat. In any form. Lots and lots of red meat.
With Mr. B it was coffee and chocolate (okay, okay, those are the things I most want all the time and I was trying to keep up with a precocious toddler).
But really, anything other than those things sounded so undesirable that it’s a miracle my children came out healthy and not terribly undernourished. Eating anything else was quite the feat.
I didn’t have any strong cravings with Sweet M. Or any strong food aversion, to be honest.
I guess that was the positive spin on his pregnancy because unlike the first two his was anything but easy.
So far, this pregnancy is more in line with the first two, thank goodness. And while I can hardly open my fridge because the smell is so awful (J says it’s not), and water makes me nauseous (WHAT?), all I can seem to stomach is bread.
Yep, bread. Everything else sounds terrible.
This is kind of ironic since I literally never eat bread. I’ve sincerely eaten more bread in the past three weeks than I have in the past three years. What gives?
This morning I opened the fridge to make the kids breakfast and couldn’t handle it. So we headed to a local bakery for coffee and muffins, making Miss H 10 minutes late for school, all because the idea of food is unappealing.
In general, I’m in the “pregnancy is beautiful” camp. Even when I was miserable with Sweet M, I still knew it was kind of amazing and tried to see the beauty in it all.
But hot damn. I could do without the pregnancy aversions. I’d love to walk into my kitchen and make a big plate of sweet potatoes and runny eggs with avocado, all of which, merely thinking about, make my tummy turn.