Breakfast, I mean Lunch of Champions

Ajay: You must be hungry...you haven't had lunch.

Me: Yes I did.

Ajay: What did you have?

Me: Well, on the way to the store, I ate a chocolate chip cookie. And while I was at the store, I ate a whole bag of Chex Mix while I shopped.

Maybe we should check my iron again...

Saturday, I was sitting at the dining room table eating lunch. I noticed how beautifully the flowers on my table were blooming. The fragrance of the lilies was filling the house. I was inspired to take a few snapshots.


Such delicate flowers...

The blooms just bursting open...

If only I could get a better, more centered shot...hang on...let me move this out of the way....

And just to clarify how many ribs I devoured without even stopping to breathe....

Maybe I should double up on the iron pills again...

Charmed, I'm sure

The past few weeks I've had good and bad days...fewer good than bad. On the days that I'm not doing so well either because of headaches or nausea, I pass the time by reading books about twins, searching for the perfect crib on the internet, or watching re-runs of Charmed on TNT. Yes, this is admittedly bad television.

Why, then, have I become addicted? Why is it almost my duty to see every episode from 1998 to 2006? I can't really explain it. There are elements of the show that I just find irresistable...one of them being that because of the writer's strike, there's nothing on TV and this is a series that I never followed, so it's all new to me. Also I love that the stars are all smart powerful girls who manage to maintain hectic lives and save the world from evil...all while remaining fashionable. And speaking of fashionable...maybe I just like to see cute outfits since the majority of my days are spent in oversized shirts and leggings or sweats or even flannel pjs. What I can admit is that I also loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so there is a common theme of the good guys being powerful young women who kick demonic butt. Again, why this is appealing to me is still somewhat of a mystery...and I can't even believe that I'm admitting this bizarre component of my personality.

So, all of that said, I'm actually going to post this blog about watching bad TV. It really must reflect all the excitement around here...nausea, migraines, and bad TV!!!

A houseful of barfed-in sinks

This morning morning started with a good barf in the toilet. I'm used to it happening in the sink while brushing my teeth. I've come to know that brushing my teeth the moment I get up is a big no-no. So today I headed for my computer to check email, and I felt that nagging feeling...What's going on? I just felt so mediocre a minute ago and now..run run run....blaaaaah.

From the bathroom sink, I went to the kitchen to take my new anti-nausea prescription, which I reserve for days that begin like this. I don't take them for heartburn, I don't take them for general nausea which could be all day every day. I only take them if barf happens. So, once in the kitchen, I opened the cupboard, reached for a glass, and oops!!! run run run......blaaaah, right in my freshly cleaned kitchen sink.

I finally get the pill down, and feel relatively sure that it'll work it's magic, but am on constant guard that IT might happen again.

At the end of 6 weeks, the morning sickness came like clockwork...just like all the early pregnancy articles I've read said. It seems like no one can agree on singular reason for morning sickness, why it effects some and not others, and why different things trigger it. Is it elevated hormones? Is it that your abdominal contents are being shifted around to make room for your new huge uterus and all the other stuff doesn't like getting shoved out of the way? Or is it the baby Jesus's way of telling new Moms that from this point forward, it's not about you anymore. (Don't feel good? Too bad, get up. Feel like throwing up? Too bad, go feed the baby. All you need is a little more sleep? Maybe in the next lifetime). It's all out of your control from this point on.

And just in case I'm right, and this morning sickness is trying to teach me that I'm not going to be in control for the rest of my life, please hear me, whoever you are, that I get it. I don't need any more barfing to understand...the babies have taken over.

My big ugly Taco Bell secret

A few weeks back, I may have mentioned that on a certain night when nothing else sounded edible, I asked Ajay to drive me to Taco Bell for a Mexican Pizza and a Taco Supreme...make that two Taco Supremes...see? I was already trying to make it sound less horrifying than it is.

What I have refrained from telling you is that since that night, I have opted for the Taco Bell option 2 more times...within 2 or so weeks. Here is the disclaimer part...I have not eaten at a fast "food" establishment in a very long time prior to pregnancy. I use quotes around food to point out that I really don't think fast food is food at all...rather chemically altered dirt and colors mixed together to trick us into eating it.

So last night on Ajay's way home, he asked if I wanted him to pick something up. Since I can't tolerate a whole lot of smells these days, I haven't been cooking at all...my poor husband. Anyway, nothing sounded good again...I had suffered the majority of the day with really bad nausea before getting my new prescription for nausea filled...so I was at a loss. He said, "how about a Mexican Pizza?" "No", I replied...then, "well, maybe....umm, how about a bean burrito? and maybe a Mexican Pizza, too?" To which Ajay responded with laughter. Not laughing with me...laughing at me.

Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 2

As the title indicates, this is the second part of a two-part entry. Please go to Part 1. If you choose not to go to Part 1, I can't help you.

After running errands, I came back home and peeled off the last pair of jeans that "fits" and traded them for pants with spandex. I got very comfortable under my comforter and began a new book. I read one-third of the page and died. Well, maybe I didn't die, but how else do you explain not hearing the 4 phone calls that came in (with a phone right next to my head) while I was beneath the covers?

I came back to life about 2 or 3 hours later. I was hungry again and ate the leftovers from Ajay's lunch.

Ajay got home and went for a walk...I joined him around the block but didn't go the rest of the way....we used to do a nice 2 mile hill walk as many days as possible but I honestly don't have the energy for our huge Mt. Everest of a hill these days.

Ajay makes it back with a cold nose feeling nicely rejuvenated from his trek into the tundra. I ask if he's hungry. A little bit, he says. Maybe we could go to Taco Bell, I suggest. He looks at me with eyes that have met a person before, but can't really place where. You want Taco Bell, he asks? Yes please, I reply.

So we hop in the car and he asks if I know what I'm ordering. Of course I do...all I think about is food these days.

We get to the counter, where I realize that I have not had Taco Bell since my girlfriends and I used to go out drinking and would hit the drive through on the way home. The menu is still the same, except for the new thing that is a Taco wrapped in something else with a bunch of yellow cheese product dripping out the bottom of it....strangely this new food product doesn't appeal to the babies. The babies want a Mexican Pizza and two Taco Supremes, with sour cream, please.

On the way home I am happy. I have a monster size of Sierra Mist. From time to time little chirps of excitement slip out...Ajay has never seen me so happy to see fast food...in fact, now that I think about it, I don't think Ajay and I have ever had fast food together.

He tells me he's surprised I didn't order the new promotional drippy thing. I ask if he wanted to try it. He replies, "No.....you know, I have been concerned about the fact that husbands gain sympathy weight when their wives are pregnant. At this rate, I'm thinking I'll be okay...everything you crave is disgusting."

I mumble back "yeah, maybe to you but to the babies, it's delicious."

Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 1

Yesterday, after my ultrasound appointment in the morning, Ajay and I had lunch together and he headed back to work, while I ran errands.

Okay, I skipped over a very important detail there....the important bit of information is not that we had lunch together, although that was a real treat for a Monday. The important bit of information is what the babies made me eat for lunch.

We went to Santa Monica Seafood. Even if you tried, I don't think you could find a healthier place for lunch....they have fresh, never frozen, no hormones added, wild caught fish in many varieties. Mainly, they sell fish for you to take home and cook yourself, but they also have a small lunch counter. Ajay orders grilled shrimp tacos. I didn't order that.

I asked what the fisherman's platter had on it...she told me fried fish, fried shrimp, and french fries. I asked if I could substitute the fried clams for the fried fish. She said no. So I ordered the fried shrimp basket with fries and coleslaw, and then another order of fried clams. and a Sprite in case my stomach decided to act up. Yes, I see the irony there. In case my stomach decided to misbehave after what I was about to do to it...

That's not the worst part...the food comes, and Ajay puts his respectable small plate of grilled tacos at his seat, and then puts a very large plate of shrimp in front of me....and since we're at a very small bistro table, we have to do a little re-arranging to fit in my extra order of clams. Everything on my side of the table is a nice golden brown color. It even smells deep fried. As Ajay is returning the tray that the food came on, we notice one of Ajay's partners at the counter placing a lunch order (fish soup....he doesn't know what's good). We say hi to Al, and as he turns to talk to us, he looks at our table and focuses on my side of it. He looks at all the fried food in front of me, and then at me, and then back to the food, and then back to me. He's got a kind of smile on his face. He sees my dirty secret. Finally he leaves.

Upon finishing every last bite, Ajay asks me to take one of his tacos home. He couldn't even finish his one little lunch order.

Who put all this food in my shopping cart?

Yesterday I felt good. By comparison, really good! I was able to go to the grocery store and everything. What an experience. It was like going for the first time, or maybe like shopping in some one elses body.

Normally, I am a health-conscious shopper. I usually spend my time at the grocery on the outer rows...produce, dairy, and maybe a little meat and fore go all the aisle of name brand foodstuff. I buy fresh herbs, lots of produce, organic milk. I never buy anything pre-made (except for the rare Trader Joe's Gruyere and red onion pizza, but who can blame me? It's divine!), and I typically don't buy junk food. I am conscious of sugar content in food and don't buy things that are excessively sugary or contain trans fats (not saying I'm fat free...the more the Omega 3s and 6s the merrier!) If we have treats, I usually make them at home where I can control the ingredients.

That said, when I went to the store yesterday I had gone too long without eating, which brings on the nausea. Nausea and fierce hunger at the same time. Bizarre. Anyway, I started in produce and got my typical fresh Italian parsley, fresh mint, fresh dill, apples, bananas, mangoes. So far so good.

Then I found my cart being pulled....like being sucked into a black hole of sorts into an aisle I'd never been in before....processed fruit. Look at all the little single servings of peaches! In their own juice!!! Their size is un-intimidating for a nauseous girl. And only 16g of sugar per serving! And look! Single servings of mandarin oranges! And only 18g of sugar per serving! Which should I get? How about both!

I continue on going down these previously forbidden rows of name brand foodstuff. Fruity Pebbles? I looooove Fruity Pebbles! And look! Ramen noodles...the one food product that I survived on in college....what could be better to this belching and apologizing girl than noodles in a faux broth made of salt and dirt? Delicious! I go on to the meat section. For the first time .....ever? I buy ground beef. Yep....ground beef....as in, hardly any quality control in the processing....as in multiple cow's multiple body parts squeezed nicely in that little pound of ground flesh. I can't wait to get home and make a nice middle eastern feast of tabouleh and kofta kabob. Yum.

I head to the checkout. What is this I see? A bakery bin of buttered croissants. I have an unspoken rule about buttered croissants...they are only worth the sin in Paris. And they are never as good as they are in Paris, so why set yourself up for the let down. So I grab one, planning to eat it on the way home. As I turn to the checkout line, I spot a box of "Mini Powdered Donuts". Mmmmmmm, donuts. I haven't had a donut in at least 4 or 5 years. I forgot about donuts. I love donuts. I think I'll take some home with me. Done.

As I thought, the croissant didn't make it home. It wasn't that good but it did make the reflux go back down. I unloaded my grocery bags on my kitchen island and was horrified. Normally, I stare with pride at my cart at the checkout lane....cashiers usually even comment about the healthiness of my food selection....mentioning I must be a great cook. But today....well today is another story. It's as if a teenager with a big checkbook went to the store. After taking everything out of it's bag, I can't believe my eyes. The fresh produce is dominated by food made of nylon and Red #5. Horrified, I pick up the donuts, and head for the couch.

Eight mini-donuts later, I fall into a slumber that might compete with a bear's hibernation. Two hours later I wake up to the phone ringing...it appears that 3 other calls came in while I was sleeping...I didn't hear a thing. Ajay gets home shortly after and notices a look of fear on my face. He asks what's wrong, while eyeing the near empty box of donuts. I say I have really bad abdominal pain...he says OH NO!!! I say, I don't think it's that...I think it's intestinal.

About then, another HUGE cramp comes...so big that it knocks the wind out of me....I actually have to sit on the floor where I was standing. Ajay tells me he's saw this kind of gas pain in his ER rotation, and that I should turn over with my elbows and forearms on the floor, butt in the air to help the gas pass. This is so sexy I can't believe it. My husband coaching me how to.....well, you know.

This is what I get. I have learned from my huge embarrassment that donuts are not worth it, and if one does buy donuts, one must resist eating 8 at a time.

Let the holiday parties begin

Last night, Ajay and I went to a work-related holiday party. I wasn't panicking about what to wear because just a couple of weeks ago I bought a basic black dress that I knew fit well and looked great. No sweat.

Except, um, between then and now, my whole shape has changed. My once rather voluptuous back side has taken on a new squarish shape...and it's really voluptuous now. And those boobs? Who's are those? Certainly not mine. It seriously looks like I got a boob job. And finally, that big belly (which my sister and I call a bing bong on boys)...it's not a cute little baby bump...it's a lumpy and not perfectly round and fatty display of "what in the hell happened?" It seriously looks like a guy's beer belly after 4 or 5 years of living in a fraternity.

I pulled out every pair of tights I own....I need spandex, and the greater concentration of spandex the better. I settle on some gray tights and pull them all the way up...you know, practically to my bra. We're getting there. Maybe that pair of Spanx that I bought for the really slinky dress could go on top of the tights. Yep, perfect. Here we are...all snug as a bug in my "no sweat" black dress of 3 weeks ago.

Ajay looks dashing as always in a suit. I look lovely too, if I do say so myself. We get in the car and the unexpected happens. Ajay looks at me and laughs out loud. "OH MY GOD!!!!! What WAS that?" My response is obviously we ran over a dead animal. Except we're still in the garage.

Apparently pregnant girls are not supposed to smoosh their internal organs with spandex in the name of fitting into a black dress...apparently we're supposed to wear some sort of smock. Now I know.

To my relief, this morning I read in the The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy that this is totally normal. Apparently, if you're not suffering from morning sickness, your suffering from noxious gas, and if you're not suffering from either of those, you'll suffer from belching and/or reflux. You know how they talk about men finding their wives sooooo sexy when they're pregnant? I'm thinking that's not going to apply here.