Under the heading of “Careful What You Wish For,” there has got to be a newly-pregnant woman who’s whined, “But I don’t feel anything. How come I don’t have morning sickness?”
Blech. Among the rapidly growing list of things that make me wanna puke: chicken, fish, my home-made cole slaw, my home-made macaroni salad, coffee, leeks — particularly when one of the outer layers is slimy because it took me too long to use them — my cat’s litter box, food magazines, my illuminated laptop screen, the fact that I didn’t call my 95-year old grandmother on her birthday, sunshine, pre-natal vitamins, the book “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” and finding my husband’s clipped toenails in the bathroom sink. Actually, that last one always made me sick.
I’ve started to smell things I never noticed, like a super hero with hyper olfactory abilities. I have an x-ray nose that can smell odors that lay beneath the surface of things. I got on the subway the other day, and all I could smell was everyone’s breath. The other day, I smelled something in the air and asked Bruce if he could smell it. He said he couldn’t. I can’t even remember what it was, but just thinking about it makes me sick.
Last night, I defrosted a slab of sockeye salmon because my acupuncturist recommended eating foods that gave me omega fatty acids, but I took one look at it, wrapped it back up in saran wrap and put it in the refrigerator for another day –perhaps in March. Even the sweet potato I’d put in the oven seemed unappealing. I wound up making a frittata with fresh eggs — the yolks were a sickeningly bright orange — potatoes and asparagus. I’d made us some chocolate chip cookies and told Bruce to make ice cream sandwiches out of them using vanilla ice cream, but when I looked at them on the plate, the ice cream melting out the sides, it made me queasy. I ate the whole thing of course, reluctantly.
I’ve limited myself to foods that don’t make my stomach flutter: Basic Four cereal and milk, cheddar cheese goldfish, peaches and watermelon. In fact I ate half a watermelon today. I’m certain if you pricked me, I would not bleed. I would ooze sweet red juice, without seeds.
I should have known when morning sickness came knocking, it would bring a lot of friends. Even without pregnancy, I’m prone to nausea. I get car sick, I can’t read on the bus, and when I went on a cruise with my mother and sister last year, I kept popping crystalized ginger.
The thing is, all I keep reading is how this is a critical period in the fetus’ development, but instead of eating well in order to nourish my baby, I’m barely eating anything except for junk food.
My acupuncturist told me about a couple of patients who after receiving acupuncture and eating a diet heavy on omega fatty acids, they gave birth to 10-pound babies with large heads and big brains. He said they were excessively smart. “Acupuncture babies,” he called them. I wonder what my baby will be like, all full of ginger snaps and cheddar goldfish.
Let the bad parenting begin.