This Friday will mark 8 weeks exactly into this pregnancy, which also happens to be 2/3 of the way through the First Trimester (Y’all gon’ learn today!)
The first trimester of a pregnancy is mainly marked by morning sickness (in more than 50% of women!), gas, cravings, and emotional turbulence (because hormones are all kinds of whack-a-doo.)
Morning Sickness has me. But it’s interesting because morning sickness isn’t always in the morning, it’s just called that because, for most women, it occurs first thing in the morning because having a low blood sugar when you wake up exacerbates the issue. For me, I get it approximately every two-three evenings. It’s nausea, no barfing thank goodness, and a general sense of discomfort. I can’t look at food, I can’t think about food and I sure as hell can’t watch my million and five favorite different food shows on Netflix & Amazon Prime. (Sad Face Here)
I have never burped so much in my life as I have in the last 8 weeks. I swear to god, I cannot explain it. It’s not because I am eating too fast, though I am guilty of this sometimes because I’m essentially always ravenous, we’ll get to that. It’s not because I’ve dramatically altered what I’m eating, though I am guilty of cravings, we’ll get to that. It’s not for any other reason than there is a tiny baby, the size of a blueberry for those traditional fruit folks or for a more exotic size comparison a Brookesia Micra Chameleon, growing inside me.
Let’s get another thing straight: Cravings are a thing. And no, there’s no explanation. And they are everpresent. Always there. First, I craved dried chewy fruit. Like raisins, mangoes, prunes, craisins, pineapple, apricots, all the dried chewy fruit. Not bananas or coconut, those were too crunchy.
Then it was milkshakes (chocolate, to be most specific) from nowhere in particular, but NOT from Wendy’s.
Now it’s cereal. Give me all the crunchy cereal, in a ginormous bowl, with lots of cold milk. And again. And again. And again. Just keep them coming.
Let me tell you a story about a dream I had about food:
In my dream, we were in line at Pita Inn, and it was packed to the gills, as usual! My parents, Martin and I were all together, and their order was taken, and every stranger around me was being helped and served their delicious plates of shawarma, falafels, babaghanoush and hummus. Except me. No one would help me. Everyone kept asking me why I was even bothering. “I would have left/given up/gone home by now,” they all said. My family was already seated and eating, and I was alone at the register while the kitchen was closing up. No one cared that I was hungry.
I woke up having shouted myself awake. Martin was rightfully concerned and wanted to know all about why I was so upset and we laughed ourselves silly that food, or rather the lack thereof, was the reason for my nightmare.
I look forward to seeing what else pops up on my radar of cravings, and would like to point out that the articles in my pregnancy tracking apps do NOT help, when they mention strange things other women have craved, because then it just sends my brain into overdrive and I feel like I have to have whatever odd things have been mentioned. NOT HELPFUL!
Let me tell you a story about emotional turbulence:
Last week, I woke up on an off day from the gym and immediately was thrilled at the idea of a gigantic bowl of cereal. (This was the morning that kicked off the cereal craving stage.)
I went downstairs in my usual routine, opening blinds, and petting animals as I passed them. I fed the dog, and while he chowed down, I went to the cereal cabinet. I pulled out my cereal Tupperware (I use the Tupperware because it holds more than two standard bags of cereal so I can mix different types together for something exciting, in this case, I had mixed a Honey Bunches of Oats with Kashi Cinnamon together, YUM) and there was nothing but crumbs.
I ripped off the lid and stared down into the nearly empty Tupperware. My ears felt hot. My eyes welled up with tears as I threw the lid into the sink, causing a clatter, and the cats to skedaddle out of the kitchen. I whine/shouted, out loud, to no one, “REALLY MARTIN?!” and the dog eased out of the kitchen. I dumped the crumbs into the trash and threw the rest of the Tupperware into the sink and snatched up my phone, the tears were flowing now. The text message conversation went like this:
Me, trying to express my deep sadness: You didn’t tell me you ate all but the crumbs of my cereal. (Sad face, sad face, sad face)
Martin caught by surprise at work: I’m sorrrrrrry. It was mostly crumbs that I ate
Me getting far more serious because I don’t believe a word of it: I HAD A GRAND TOTAL OF 2 BOWLS FROM THAT BATCH.
Me, again, trying to rationalize my feelings: I know we’ve talked about this before, but if something is even REMOTELY CLOSE to being out, PLEASE PUT IT ON A LIST. I was banking on cereal for breakfast and now I have nothing.
Me, again, trying to make my point abundantly clear: We even bought you your own box of cereal to try and avoid this…
Martin not in a state of emotional turbulence, and thinking clearly like a normal NOT PREGNANT human being: Ok, I’m sorry for eating your cereal and not putting it on the list. There should be oatmeal, sausages, bacon, eggs, etc. so you do have plenty of things to choose from.
This was not what I wanted to hear. Why didn’t he understand that cereal is all that mattered to me at this moment in time?! How could he eat all my cereal and not replace it?! How could he think that oatmeal, sausage, bacon, eggs or anything else were acceptable substitutions in this moment of cereal-craving-hell?! How could he be such a terrible husband?! How could he be so insensitive?! Why does he hate me so much?! (Yes, I know, RI-DI-CU-LOUS, but this is the thought process that occurred.)
In the end, I expressed how emotional the situation made me. Martin understood that I honestly had zero control over this reaction whatsoever. He felt terrible for having made me cry and for eating all my cereal, but we both laughed at the stupid-seriousness of the situation and learned a lot about the next eight months of our lives.
This is about to be one wild ride, folks!! ❤