I was pregnant for almost 3 weeks before I knew it. And during that time The Weird Shit started. The Weird Shit in the beginning was even weirder because I wasn’t aware of the fact that I was pregnant. Had I not eventually peed on a stick to discover I was “with child”, I would have sought professional help. But if you enter any of the “Weird Shit” into Pregnancy, you end up with something like “That ain’t nothing, I ate dirt when I was pregnant.”
A few days after Emory was conceived I began craving caesar salads, like, salivating at the mere thought of that creamy dressing. And I continued to eat them until I realized that some caesar salads may include raw egg, a big no no during pregnancy. And there was the grilled cheese craving. It couldn’t just be any old grilled cheese. No. It had to be THE grilled cheese I ordered from the chinese woman who owned a small take out spot in an alley behind the studio I worked for in Washington, DC. I am not sure what this woman did to the grilled cheese, for all I know it was Velveeta. But I loved it. And that’s what I wanted when I first got knocked up. I wanted THAT grilled cheese. AND NO OTHER GRILLED CHEESE WOULD DO.
I settled for something less than perfect and took the disappointment out on my husband who should have gone to DC or China, find this woman, and have her make me THAT GRILLED CHEESE.
Then there was the saliva. OH MY GOD, the saliva. I produced so much spit during the first trimester, I carried a spittoon, which was actually a plastic bag filled with torn napkins. I used to hang my head in the shower, or over the sink, and let the spit pour out of my mouth. It was disgusting. I asked so many women about “The Spit” and everyone thought I was nuts. (Finally, my doctor reassured me that this was just some more “Weird Shit”.) The excessive amount of saliva continued to be the weirdest of the Weird Shit right up until I started to crave paint, fresh tar, and Sharpies. (Remember this?)
Of course, I had issues with odors. I have a sensitive sense of smell as it is. Two days into my pregnancy, that sense of smell was intensified times one thousand. It was horrible. I could not get away from all the smells. Being pregnant in New York City with an obese sense of smell is not something I recommend. But this brings me to the reason I’m writing today.
One of the worst smells ended up being one I couldn’t get away from: my clothing. Back then, I washed all of our clothing in Mrs Meyers laundry detergent, more specifically, the lavender. I would follow up with the lavender fabric softener. And I loved the smell of it up until all the Weird Shit started happening. I changed our detergent, poured the rest of the softener out, washed all of our clothing, and that was the end of that. Or so I thought…
I unpacked my winter clothing last week and found a pair of pants I hadn’t worn since last year. I was happy to discover that they not only fit, but there was a 20-dollar bill in the back pocket as well. I decided to wear them. And that’s when the smell hit me.
And just like Pavlov’s little dog, I got a whiff of my pants, started salivating excessively, and felt gross all over again.
Part of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), where one writes every day for the month of November, which is easier said than done.