March 23, 2011

Eggs and Cran-Raspberry

Yesterday, one of my students asked me what it’s like to be pregnant. I was honest with her, the same as I was honest with my 10th graders back when I was pregnant with Big I.

“Do you get motion sickness?” I asked her.

“Yeah, it’s awful,” she said.

“Well, being pregnant, at least in the beginning and for me, is kind of like having non-stop motion sickness. You’re always feeling ‘green’ and like barfing is just around the corner. You also burp, like all the time and sometimes you have so much saliva in your mouth that you actually choke on it. Then there’s the stretch marks. Once you start to get big, your body basically pulls your skin from your hip bones around to the front and you get railroad track-like stretch marks on the whole path. You also have weird cravings and aversions to certain foods. I love vegetables. I used to eat salad as a snack, but now I can’t even look at vegetables (with the exception of tomatoes-which, let’s face it-there’s quite the debate about whether they’re really a fruit or veggie anyway so does it even really count?)”

She looked at me like I had three heads and I could tell she was making a mental decision to never have children.

“It’s all worth it in the end though,” I said. “It’s just hard to see that when you’re in the midst of all those fun symptoms.”

This pregnancy has been a bit crazy. I’ve been more nauseated with this one than either of my previous two. Last week I started to feel better but I still have my moments. Days when I teach are rough. I need to snack my way through the morning and when I’m teaching, that’s just not possible. I can barely stand to look at chicken. The other night I made chicken marsala, which is one of my all-time favorite meals and I had a hard time getting it down. I also can’t stand the smell of coffee and am wondering if I’ll ever be able to again. All I want to eat is cheese and hamburger meat. Give me Shepard’s Pie, mushroom cheeseburgers or steak anytime. Also, eggs.

My latest obsession is having red beet eggs for breakfast, washed down with some cran-raspberry juice. The burps from that breakfast are enough to make anyone reconsider that meal, but it’s one of the only things I keep going back to again and again. Even Mr. BBM thinks it’s disgusting and there’s not much that man won’t eat. I guess it’s really an improvement on what I used to crave. . . giant cherry slushies and jalapeno-cheese soft pretzels, health wise anyway.

Tomorrow night, Mr. BBM and I are off to the Flyers/Pens game, just 16 rows off the ice. I plan on eating my way through the arena, one cheese-steak at a time. I still have 1.5 lbs to gain back to reach my pre-pregnancy weight after weeks of feeling nauseated and counting carbs so as to avoid gestational diabetes again. I’ll just use the roll as a dish and eat what’s inside. . .

I wonder if they sell red-beet eggs at the stadium?