Ok guys, I think it’s time for me
to come clean about why it’s been so quiet around here. I mentioned that I
haven’t been very interested in food, that I was working on something big…
Pretty vague explanations, I know, but the truth is, I’ve been rather afraid to
post about it. I worry something might go wrong, and then I’d have to deal with
the “public” fallout on top of having to handle my own grief. But on the other
hand, it’s such great news that not a day has gone by that I haven’t wanted to
shout it from the rooftops. So today, I’m indulging and sharing.
I’m pregnant!
We found out in February. It
wasn’t a surprise, but it was still a shock (if that makes any sense), and it
took me a while to really believe it. Every time I took a blood test, I
breathed a sigh of relief when it confirmed my pregnancy. There was no reason
behind this, as I thankfully have no bad medical history, it’s just that it
felt so unreal. When we caught our first glimpse of the baby (the Squid, as
I’ve been calling him) at 10 weeks, I could hardly wrap my brain around the
fact that this little creature was really in there, kicking around. Even now,
at four months, I sometimes still wonder if this is really happening.
Which is silly, really, because
I’ve been having all the symptoms. Extreme fatigue was the first: I literally
slept 10 hours a day whenever I could. Then came the dreaded “morning
sickness,” which in my case manifested itself in the form of continuous nausea
and food aversions. For someone who loves to cook and eat, you can imagine how
unpleasant that was. I quickly relinquished the kitchen to Laurent, as the
smell of food cooking, particularly onions and garlic, had become intolerable
to me. The first few days, he made me whatever he felt like, but then it became
apparent that I was no longer able to eat normally: I picked at my plate,
forcing myself to swallow enough to keep myself alive and the really bad nausea
at bay (which would strike whenever my stomach was empty), but not enjoying my
meal in the least. So Laurent switched strategies and began calling me every
day before leaving work, to ask me what I wanted to eat – or rather, what I
felt I would be able to tolerate.
Which turned out to be pretty sad
stuff. I think it’s fair to say that I’m a decently adventurous eater on a
regular day: I’ll try most things at least once, I have no qualms about eating
offal or “exotic” meats, and I love experimenting with hot and spicy dishes.
But now, I was requesting the blandest food available, preferably carbs: mashed
potatoes, white rice, plain pizza… Red meat was too fibrous, fish was too
flaky, cooked vegetables were too mushy and raw ones too vegetabley. White meat
was ok, especially if it was fried and served with ketchup. Fortunately, I
could still keep down dairy products, and practically lived on them for weeks.
That and fruit, and cookies. It wasn’t about cravings, it was about figuring
out the one thing that didn’t make me wrinkle my nose in disgust at that
particular moment.
This explains my continued
absence from all your lovely blogs, these past few weeks. As delicious as I
know they are, reading about food was simply not how I wanted to spend my time –
not when I was in a state where the peak of gastronomy, in my mind, was a can
of fruit salad.
And, of course, once my appetite
did start to return, there were all the other restrictions to take into
account. When I was younger, I used to think the only restrictions for pregnant
women were no cigarettes and no alcohol. And indeed, that was pretty much the
case for our mothers – and I know for a fact the European ones weren’t all that
strict about the no alcohol part. Not so today. I eventually got to a place
where I felt like I could have handled eating sushi, with its clean, pure
flavours (especially after seeing the wonderful documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi), but raw fish and
meat are now a big no-no, along with their smoked counterparts (so no more
smoked salmon or proscuitto crudo, unless they’re cooked). And I see no point
in eating well-done red meat (I like my steaks blue and my lamb bloody), so
that’s basically off the menu, unless it’s ground. Certain fish such as tuna
and mackerel are also forbidden, as are deli meats and pâtés, which means I
can’t even make myself a normal sandwich. No more soft-boiled or sunny-side-up
eggs, either. Oh, and no chocolate mousse, or tiramisu, or homemade ice cream,
or anything that contains raw eggs. It adds up, doesn’t it?
Given that I’ve always had a very
devil-may-care attitude about general food safety, and that I’m lucky enough
not to have any food allergies, it bugs me to have to be “that girl” in
restaurants for a few months. The one who asks questions like “Is your grilled
cheese made with pasteurized cheddar?”, “Is that cheesecake baked?”, “Do you
put the duck jambon on the pizza before or after you put it in the oven?”, and
“Can I have the sticky toffee pudding without the ice cream?”. I can’t wait to
start showing, so that people will know that I’m not picky or paranoid, I’m
just pregnant.
Laurent tells me I’m being overly
cautious, that I’m just going to end up miserable and malnourished, which can’t
be good for the baby. Maybe so, but just try eating something after you’ve read
that there’s a slight chance it might permanently hurt your baby. Those
Norwegian eggs Benedict will turn sour in your mouth. You can’t unlearn that
information. Which means I probably should’ve stayed away from the Internet in
the first place…
But finally, last week, I started
really feeling better. First, I had a new spring in my step, an urge to
actually do something other than lie on the couch and knit baby clothes. Then,
I started cooking again. Simple things, at first. And when I went to bed one
night thinking about the elaborate goat curry I wanted to make the next day, I
knew I was back to normal. With my appetite back, it’s not so bad working
around the restrictions and thinking of meal ideas.
So, there you have it. There are
a lot of changes in the future, and I look forward to them all. And I’m happy
to be able to post about it here as of now!
