Despite my ridiculously high beta numbers and suppository-induced progesterone high, I haven’t experienced morning sickness. I know, these are still early days and I’m probably cursing myself by the very writing of this post, but so far the occasional moments of queasy are as bad as it gets. Unfortunately, I also think I’m developing my first food aversion.
I should preface this by explaining to you my relationship with cheese. I love it. All cheese. Strong cheese, soft cheese, cream cheese: all delicious. Brie? Yes please. Swiss? Yum. Cheddar? Pass it over. When Sea begins slicing cheese to make dinner, the cat and I are suddenly both at her side and I’m asking for “a piece for my mouth, please”.
But then, a few days ago, I realized that melted cheese didn’t sound all that appetizing. And yesterday, putting cheese on my sandwich seemed like a dubious choice. And today– well, today.
I’m far from home for the next few days, travelling with my mother*. One of the most disappointing things about the city where I live is that it is no longer home to my favourite restaurant: a particular restaurant with big bowls of salad and unlimited breadsticks, with which you may be familiar. But the city we are visiting does have this restaurant! Joy! Excitement! Breadsticks! So my mother and I made our way to the restaurant. I was feeling slightly blah after an early morning and long day of travel, but still greeted the menu with fair enthusiasm. Until I realized that almost everything on the menu sounded too cheesy. Being stubborn, I decided to embrace the cheese. Maybe it was good in practice, if not in theory? Maybe it was me, not the cheese, that needed to change to make this partnership work? I unenthusiastically ate half my meal and then gave up. It was just too cheesy.
Too cheesy? Saying that goes against my very nature. I judge people who don’t like cheese in the same way that I judge people who don’t like chocolate. I often use cheese to explain why I am not a vegan. Yet here I am: simultaneously hoping that today’s cheese aversion was a fluke and wondering how else to fill tomorrow’s breakfast omelette.
*Yes, I am travelling with my mother. Who does not know that I’m pregnant. Who asks about grandchildren approximately every 30 minutes. We also happen to be travelling to a theme park. This deserves its own post.