Once you're visibly pregnant, no one questions your weird cravings. Sending your poor husband out for ice cream, or similar, at four in the morning is practically required. Checking out at the grocery store with pickles and bananas merely elicits an indulgent smile from the clerk.
But there's a little bit of shame in buying a box of blueberry Pop Tarts at Walgreens at 3:30 on a Tuesday when you have no visible belly to show for it. Or, at least, there was for me. I wanted to tell the clerk, "Normally I eat way healthier than this, but, see, I'm pregnant...."
Wait, that doen't sound so great either, does it?
I should have camouflaged it better. Gotten a few Matchbox cars for the Kid to falsely signal, "These aren't for me!" But, at the time, all I wanted to think about was that delicious high fructose corn syrup frosting. Baby didn't have time to wait for her sugar while I tried to save face in the toy aisle.
As it turned out, the Kid had his very first Pop Tart out of that self-same box. He enjoyed it--who doesn't?--but overall not as madly as he loves, say, applesauce. I pride myself that this is because I madly craved fruit when I was pregnant with him, even if that really has nothing to do with it.
In general though, I think this baby is hungrier than the Kid was. I tend to be a 3-square-meals kind of girl, just because it's easier for me to keep an eye on my portions that way. But this little one is letting me know that I'm going to have to learn how to do some controlled grazing if I want to stay upright. I'm trying to do that in the form of bananas and whole-wheat bagels, as opposed to Coke and blueberry Pop Tarts.
But if she comes out asking for the Pop Tarts, I suppose I'll have to take the blame.
Also on the pregnant lady menu--sushi rice! This was a huge first trimester staple of mine when I was pregnant with the Kid. Sweet Husband was almost on a first name basis with our local restaurant for a few weeks there, in fact.
This time I've had to add edamame and gyoza to my order. (Really, this baby is hun-gry.) It makes me wonder what I'm deficient in to crave that particular food for both of my children, though. Salt, perhaps?
Maybe I need to add some pretzels to my shopping-cart-of-shame when I stop to pick up the Pop Tarts.