First pregnancy (twins!), first trimester. I want no food. Nothing. Absolutely no food. Wait, I want ice cream. Yes, ice cream sounds good. Nevermind. We don’t have any ice cream and it’s been five minutes so now it sounds terrible. Maybe an apple? No, not an apple. Chewing anything that long makes me want to puke. What about Thai food? Thai food sounds so good right now. In fact, only Thai food sounds good and I think I need some curry, stat. If I can’t eat that then I can’t eat anything. Oh and also an Arby’s roast beef sandwich. I don’t remember the last time I had Arby’s but now I want to eat one of those sandwiches every day until I die.
First pregnancy, second trimester. Phew. Food is just food again.
First pregnancy, third trimester. I am so hungry all the time. Also, I can’t eat anything. I am so full and huge and my stomach has no room to even exist in my body anymore, much less have room for food inside. I am going to eat very small amounts of food all day long. I probably look like a glutton because I constantly have food on my person but really I can only eat one bite every five minutes or I will probably, actually, literally explode.
Vanilla milkshakes. With every meal in the hospital after giving birth. The hospital, of all places, made the most amazing milkshakes. If there’s a time in life that you get to overdose on milkshakes, it’s after giving birth. To twins.
Meals in tinfoil. And in take-out containers. Casseroles in disposable aluminum pans. Also individually-wrapped granola bars, dry cereal, and dried fruit. Some kind of dark chocolate. All within arm’s reach. The early postpartum months of meals from friends and constant breastfeeding.
Coffee. Enough said.
Baby food. Cereal puffs. Banana slices. Cheerios. Yogurt. And all of these things ground into every crevice of every high chair and car seat.
Normalcy. We’ve survived the first year and I’m making real meals again! Actual real, human meals with things like protein and carbs and fruits and veggies and healthy fats! Yay!
Why does all food sound terrible? The thought of a cheeseburger makes me want to puke and I know that cheeseburgers are actually delicious. Actually, anything I can possibly think of to eat sounds terrible. What is going on? Oh. Wait. I remember this feeling…
Second pregnancy (surprise!), first trimester. All food is awful except the one very specific thing I am craving at this exact moment: a fish sandwich from McDonald’s. I must have a fish sandwich and it must be from those golden arches. It’s the only thing I can think about and if I eat any other food I will likely throw up and then die.
Second pregnancy, still first trimester. Making food for my existing kids is terrible. It’s all I can do to not puke into their scrambled eggs. Here kids, here’s some more Goldfish and raisins. Live on those for the next two months. I’m growing your sibling and subsisting off of fish sandwiches and french fries. Please don’t make me smell food cooking. I may actually die.
Second pregnancy, second trimester. Thank goodness food sounds good again. Except for cheeseburgers and all other forms of beef. That still sounds terrible. At least now I can stop giving McDonald’s all my money for their fish sandwiches and this baby actually has a chance of being healthy. Or at least to not be made up entirely of french fries.
Five days postpartum. I don’t need to swear off beef for the rest of my life! Cheeseburgers actually sound good again. “Honey, get in the car. I need one right. freaking. now.”
More take-out, meals in tinfoil, casseroles, individually wrapped everything, etc.
Also all the coffee.
Honey mustard pretzels. Company for the all-night affair of nursing. Why honey mustard pretzels? I don’t know. They’re not something we usually have in our pantry. Or are a thing known for their lactation properties. There’s a lot of talk about pregnancy cravings but not postpartum ones. That’s a thing, right? Whatever. They’re delicious.
Food. Just eat any food. What do you mean you don’t like bananas? You’ve eaten a banana almost every day since you were six months old. Okay, so no on bananas. No, don’t throw it on the floor. Oh gross now I stepped on it. How about applesauce? A pear? Blueberries? Some sort of berry? These are all things you like, I swear. Come on, eat something. Fine. Here are more crackers.
Grocery pick-up. Magical. Feels like I have superpowers. Life changing.
Sugar. On the counter. And on the floor. And all over my guilty two-year-old. Who pushed a chair over to the counter so he could climb up and eat literal fistfuls from the sugar canister.
Restaurant. Tablecloth. Cocktail. Five-star reviews. Food made by someone else’s own two hands. And most importantly: no high chairs. No throwing of food. No refills on milk or pasta or cheese. Except for myself. Date nights forever.
Dark chocolate. There’s a lock on this pantry door for a reason. I’m totally not in here eating anything. Especially chocolate.
