Pregnant Vegetarian 10: Crazy Pregnancy Hormones
From all the crazy pregnant lady stories, I expected to be much more mental!
So far, making a baby has been much easier than I expected. Aside from my lack of physical symptoms, which I talked about a couple posts ago , I expected to be much more mental.
The crazy pregnant lady stories are rooted deep in our culture, starting early in childhood with Rapunzel, the long haired chick whose mother could have avoided the entire kidnapping tragedy if she’d only been able to keep a lid on her food cravings.
(And by the way, I’d like to know why she didn’t have her own garden!)
Comedians make stand-up routines out of their wives’ pregnancy foibles, and men brag about midnight food runs. One friend told me about breaking the speed limit and a few other traffic laws to fetch a Happy Meal before the nearest McDonald’s closed.
Female friends and acquaintances (and complete strangers, unsolicited) tell me about sobbing at sappy movies, baby obsessions, raging mood swings…
People make pregnancy out to be nine months of temporary insanity that you can’t be medicated for.
Except my hormonal system hasn’t gotten the memo. I feel like I always do, only with a bump in front.
I expected to be overwhelmed by my hormones.
I pictured myself becoming firmly attached to the idea that the kitchen counters must be rebuilt NOW, and hounding Bryan over it, demanding that he drop everything and do my bidding. There would be tears, I imagined, and sleepless nights. I would become angry, and insist that if he loved me, if he really loved me … but no.
I still think the counters need rebuilding, but I’m totally cool with it if he finishes building the storage shed first. THEN he can redo the counters and paint the floor. And I can wait until he gets that stuff done to insist he put in a door at the top of the stairs…
Well, I am nesting a bit. In a reasonable way. One thing at a time. Although I would have thought he’d be done with the shed by now.
I’m not living my life swinging from one food craving to the next, or eating weird combos, like pickles and ice cream.
Yes, food tastes better than it ever did, and when I find something tasty, I go for it with extra gusto. But I haven’t woken Bryan up in the middle of the night, demanding specific foods immediately. OK, he did bake me a cake I craved, but that was voluntary, at a reasonable hour. And I haven’t had a food craving so strong since then. Nothing I couldn’t fend off until the next trip to the grocery store.
When I get to the grocery store, of course, I am an enthusiastic shopper. Still, it’s perfectly normal to bring home Mint Chocolate M&Ms, Chocolate Covered Raisins, and White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle ice cream all in one shopping, right? And equally normal to hide the first two from one’s spouse in order to avoid sharing. Ahem.
OK, I am a bit obsessed with food. Maybe this all just seems normal to me because I’m a bit strange to begin with. I’ve always been a treat fiend. It’s just that the treats taste even better now, and the need to eat them is more urgent.
But I’m not cranky like pregant women are supposed to be.
I don’t think Bryan and I have had a single argument since we realized I was pregnant. Not that we argue much. But I also have to be nice to people for ten hours at a time at my job. That’s not as awful as it sounds – I only have to be nice to any one person for a few minutes at a time.
I think I’ve managed quite well, considering! Even when random strangers ask me when I’m due (and other personal questions), I’ve resisted the urge to say, “Excuse me!?” as if I’m just fat, and watch them stammer and backpedal.
Such a tempting thought – I may yet break down and do it. And no strangers have tried to touch my belly, so I haven’t truly been tested.
I might actually be less prickly now than when I’m eating for one. What gives? Could pregnancy be a tranquilizer? Am I doing a better job minding my blood sugar than I usually would? Am I just one of those people who don’t get wound up without a good reason? Maybe, although I figured pregnancy hormones would BE a darn good reason.
I did have one low blood sugar incident, where I cried over a silly book, and had to eat Right Then. But since I realized that my blood sugar needs minding, I’ve been on a very even keel. Mellow. Easy to live with – as long as I’m fed regularly.
I’m not even soppy over the baby, really. I mean, I’m thrilled she’s in there, growing away. It’s neat to watch my body change shape and to feel her rolling around under my skin. Cripes! There’s a person in there! That’s just wild!
I do think about how amazing it’s going to be when she’s born, and how absolutely everything in my life is going to change, and how sweet it will be to watch Bryan be a daddy. I don’t cry about it, though. I don’t freak out. I don’t sob over tiny articles of clothing.
I just give my belly a rub, say, “Hi, Baby!” and go rustle up something to eat. Peanut butter on rice cakes, maybe. And carrot sticks with ranch dressing.
It’s not a weird combo if you wait a bit (like 10 minutes) between eating one and the other. It’s just two perfectly normal snacks.