If I really decide to be honest, which I guess I have to be now, starting off like that…I really didn’t think the whole bit about pregnant women getting morning sickness, fatigue and food aversions were really all THAT BAD. I mean, I totally get it: Milk it if you’ve got the leverage to back it up, but really? Can it be so terrible that you can’t possibly make yourself do anything more than take a shower on a daily basis?

Um. YES. And by the way? Points to all those who actually manage to shower. Double bonus for getting out of your pajamas.

Apparently, I should have NEVER mocked the Pregnancy Folklore, ever, because it actually isn’t folklore – it’s real, y’all, and now the joke is on me for being all, “Whatever. It really can’t be as debilitating as *they* say.”

From around weeks five to about 6.2, and I’m guesstimating, here, all I could manage to eat was fruit and salad. Anything else – and I mean ANYTHING ELSE made me want to empty the contents of my stomach. Everywhere. Any place. At any time. You’d think that fruit and salad were perfectly fantastic things to crave. No junk food. Nothing unhealthy. It’s perfect!! But rabbit food doesn’t typically contain two very important things that I couldn’t have eaten, anyway, because the thought of either made my throat close up like I’d wrapped a boa constrictor around my neck (lovely imagery…we really should have a discussion on pregnancy dreams…)

I couldn’t handle anything dairy related or meat of any flavor. Both of these are vital to ingest because who wants to be anemic and have your body stripping the calcium from your teeth and bones? Body be damned, it will willingly sacrifice whatever the baby needs, whenever it needs it, regardless of the outcome on you. I’m just a pawn in this whole pregnancy experience.

Then, as it tends to happen with food aversions, I wake up one day out of the clear blue sky all, “Salad? OMG. Noooo. Bad…bad bad idea.” I was now, absolutely, on a strict carb only diet. Very specific carbs. Like bread. And crackers. And macaroni and cheese from the box – it had to be from a box. Oh, and pizza. I don’t know what it is about pizza…but I can eat that *almost* any time. But only certain kinds of pizza…

And yes, do feel bad for me. I’m not afraid to ask for sympathy. Not now. Not with these hormones pumping through my entire body, making me crazy and forgetful and gassy like never before. OMG the gas I can create! It’s incredible. Tim looks at me disgusted all, “Come ON! Seriously right now?”

My response has dwindled down to a sly smile and one word, because there really is nothing else to say: pregnant.

I still, at twelve weeks, struggle with what kind of food to eat. Deciding what I want for dinner? That’s the million dollar question I spend about two hours on every single day because who the hell knows? The other night, it was ramen noodles. Now, I haven’t had ramen noodles since I don’t even remember. I am pretty sure I never ate them in college and I cannot recall a time before that…though i do remember this girl I went to middle school with…every day she’d bring a pack of ramen noodles for lunch. Except, she ate them straight out of the package, breaking off pieces of the noodle brick and sprinkling some of the flavor packet stuff onto each bite…weird and slightly disgusting. Anyway, moving on before I forget, the other night, that’s the only thing I wanted to eat: ramen noodles. Tim had to stop at the store on his way home from work and bring home the solitary food item my stomach decided it would ingest.

His new question for me every afternoon on his way home from work (after the obligatory “how are you feeling?” – he forgot to ask that once and, let’s just say it hasn’t happened again) is, “What am I picking up for dinner?”

More often than not, it seems, he’s having to stop at a fast food place. This, by the way, has been a huge surprise. I never eat fast food. Until now. I’ve eaten more fast food in the last six weeks than I have in years. My three insatiable cravings have all been expertly conquered: A McDonald’s cheeseburger (Holy Batman. The best thing EVER), soft tacos from Taco Bell (Drool) and a Wendy’s hamburger with fries dipped in a frosty (Heaven).

Tangent: My mom craved Wendy’s fries dipped in a frosty when she was pregnant with me. Random?

I can’t explain the desire to eat these (bad, bad!) foods any more than I can my lack of desire for almost any kind of meat, milk (except sometimes in cereal or if I make Ovaltine), salad, most fruit, desserts and whatever else sounds disgusting at the moment. Like eggs. Barf.

All of these food “aversions” (which sounds like a sissy way of saying “picky eater”) led me to lose about five pounds. At my last appointment, the doc was all, “Try to gain some weight.”

Now, wait a second. Let us just pause right here. When has anyone EVER heard their doctor tell them that?! GAIN WEIGHT??

(ignore the obvious stigma, here)

It’s like I got a free pass to eat more food! It’s like someone telling you, no, demanding that you get fatter!

(I know, I know. It’s not “fatter” it’s baby…even though my body *is* going to oh so conveniently pack on about 7 to 10 pounds of pure blubber, you know, just to make sure I have enough energy and calories to give away)

Anyway, I was supposed to gain 8 pounds in the first 20 weeks. According to my OB, I’m in the “25-35 pound” weight class, since my weight and BMI were in the normal range before I became preggers.

So far, I’m at a grand total of zero pounds…with 8 weeks to go and no desire to stuff my face. You do the math.

I think I’ve decided that part of the non-weight gain is related to our half marathon training, especially on the long run days. I end up in such a massive calorie deficit that there really is no way for me to make it up. For instance, this weekend we have an 11 mile run to complete. On average, that’s about 1100 calories I’ll burn just during the run. PLUS the additional 200-300 extra calories I’m supposed to eat because I’m knocked up PLUS the 1500 or so I need just to survive. So, I will start my day at a minimum of minus 1300 calories before I can even think about surviving. But I’ll get into all of that running mumbo jumbo in another post. And no one freak out on me – I was cleared by my OB to continue training.

My point, since I’ve gone way off in the other direction of whatever point I was originally trying to make (pregnancy brain strikes again…what’s the title?…food aversions! – you might think I’m making this, “I don’t…..remember..?..?” up, but I’m totally not. It’s another “who knew?” side effect: forgetfulness to a degree you’d never imagine possible, especially if you’re a Type A like me) is that you really shouldn’t make fun of pregnant people who say they’re nauseous all day and can only eat seven different foods that change on an hourly basis. First of all, “morning sickness” is the most misleading name in the history of naming things. You get “morning sickness” at any time of the day, sometimes all day long, like me. Granted, there was no actual pukage for me, thank goodness, but I felt like I was going to puke all day, every single day, which made eating a beast of a chore. I longed to puke just to feel better. Then, someone at Tim’s work was all, “Tell her that if she pukes once, it’s like opening the flood gates and, unlike when you have the stomach flu, you never feel better afterwards.”

That was enough right there for me to tell my body to keep it together and resist the urge to barf.

And….now I don’t even remember if I ever had a second of all…so I’ll just move on…

Tim quickly learned to only buy me one of whatever I told him I REALLY wanted because almost every single time, after I eat it, I never want it again. I am still, to this day, on the one and done kick. I’ll eat it once (except pizza) and I have zero desire to eat it again – which has made figuring out what I want to eat all that much more challenging. I keep whining to Tim all, “I want to like food again!!!! When will I like food again?!??”

(excuse me while I continue my pity party) I hate food. I eat it because I have to. I don’t *enjoy* food and I haven’t since…too long. It is beyond frustrating.

When will I get to where anything and everything sounds delicious and I want to stuff my face every fifteen minutes? That sounds way more fun. (end whining)

Oh, I have a new home, you know, The Couch. We’re totally BFF, which is why it deserves capitalization. We take naps together and watch lots of terrible TV and play on the internet.
All day…almost every day.

Geez. I disgust myself. This must be my bad karma coming back to kick me in the teeth all, “Told you so.”

COME ON SECOND TRIMESTER! I WANT MY HONEYMOON PHASE!

(two weeks to go…)

(now…what to have for dinner????….what are you having? HALP!)