Friday, March 09, 2007

Extreme Sports in the Womb

They say that babies can experience a lot in the womb. They hear and feel much of what we hear and feel when we are pregnant. This may have a lot to do with the reason my daughter won't eat potatoes.

When I was in my first trimester I had a lot of nausea. I never threw up. I just wanted to. For about a month all I wanted was potato products from Sonic. One day I ate tater tots and fries for two separate meals. I use the word "meal" loosely. I went nuts with the spuds. Maybe it was the starch, or maybe the salt. I don't know, but it worked. I

After the urge to purge went away, I craved certain foods like Chinese, Mexican, anything spicy, turkey sandwiches and Cheetos (had to be at the same time), and Brach's chocolate covered peanut clusters.

If it were possible, I would write a thank you note to the person who united the peanut with chocolate. This was pure genius. And to take roasted peanuts, pile them all on top of one another in a football-style tackle, then smother them in rich chocolate?

Sweet Mother of Pearl.

Most normal people would buy the bag of Brach's chocolate covered peanut clusters and it would last them, oh, a few days or maybe a week. I was pregnant. It lasted me for the ride home.

Yes, M'am. I ate an entire day's worth of calories en route from Wal-mart to my house. Sometimes I would pace myself, saving a few for when I got home, so I could drink a tall glass of skim milk with them. I went with the skim to keep my girlish figure.

To this day my daughter loves Cheetos and Reese's peanut butter cups. She has just recently discovered the negative nutritional goodness of Girl Scout cookies- peanut butter patty.

If Homer Simpson is reading this post, I promise you that he is drooling right now and yelling for Marge to bring him a snack.

Just as the pregnancy potato products had an adverse effect on my daughter's taste for spuds, I fear that one day she will have some unusual aversions without knowing why.

Let me explain.

When I was about 7 months pregnant, we visited the Outer Banks. My husband wanted to see one of the lighthouses so we decided to take the "ferry" on over.

Now, what do you think of when I say "ferry?" You think of a normal barge type water craft, don't you? Oh, no. You are so very wrong. This particular ferry was a small, teeny, tiny, minuscule fishing boat. This boat was so small that if you actually did go fishing in it, you would have to leave the fish behind because there wouldn't be enough room for you and the fish to go home.

The weather was cold, damp, and windy and the water was rough. It was white capping like the foam on your cappuccino. The ride was a very long 15 minutes. The driver completely ignored the fact that my belly was the size of a nuclear reactive watermelon and decided to keep his tight schedule.

The faster he went, the more the boat bounced. Boom. Boom. Boom. My bottom kept bouncing up and down, over and over. I thought for sure I would go into labor. When we arrived on the island to see the lighthouse, I cried like a scared, mom-to-be. We asked the sweet, retired park volunteer if there was any other way back.

The lady brought me a chair, gave me some Coke, and said,"Shug, the only other way out of here is by helicopter. Do you need me to call one for you?"

Now I had to decide if I wanted to take the chance going back with Captain Pogo Stick or request that the state park personnel call a chopper in to save me from premature labor and a nervous breakdown.

I went with the boat ride. Only this time, the Captain was a little more understanding. He must have told his first mates back at the dock about this huge pregnant woman he almost sent into labor. My guess is they gave him a piece of advice- Give the woman a seat on the back of the canoe along with a huge cushion and slow down.

So we made it back safely. It ended up being a wasted trip anyway. My husband was disappointed that the lighthouse was closed and he couldn't actually go in it. He was grateful that I didn't have a baby right there on the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

I managed not to have a nervous breakdown or severely injure Captain Pogo Stick.

My daughter was fine, but I have a feeling she will never, ever want to go bungee jumping.

3 comments:

Roxanne said...

I had the whole nausea thing for 20 weeks with my first. . .and added one more week and the throwing up part to the nausea part with my second. The throwing up DID NOT make the nausea go away.

If I could have had soy sauce directly injected into my blood stream via IV, I'd have been a happy woman. Soy Sauce, pickles, and lime slushes from Sonic were about all I could stomach. My husband truly thought I'd lost my mind, but it cut the ick or something.

And I KNOW that sweet angel of mercy would have called a chopper for you had you requested one. She probably went down to the dock and gave Captain Pogo Stick a piece of her mind before your return trip.

Linda said...

Totally with you on the peanuts and chocolate. Today my son had a Reese Cup cake for his birthday! And, about the ferry--did you happen to be overdue? Cause I think it sounds like your H bribed the ferryman to put you into labor! "Let's get this over with!"

Ang said...

Sooo funny!! My parents visited Cape Hatteras often while my mom was pregnant w/ me (my dad was a coast gaurdsman, and had a key to the lighthouse..... maybe that's why I don't like steps?!? Ha Ha)Have a good weekend!!