Not being new to this pregnancy malarkey, I thought I had it all figured out. The old trap of eating for two? Wouldn’t be doing that. Sit and stuff cream cakes in my face every night? Not me. I’d be an image of health, only eating food in it’s raw, natural state whilst doing yoga, batting away calls from mum-to-be magazines begging me to be on the front cover.
What a load of crap. That doesn’t happen. Morning sickness is shit. You feel shit. Everything tastes like shit. Toothpaste tastes like soil. Seriously. Everything smells wrong, and the thought of any sort of vegetable getting even close to my digestive system was enough to make me want to vomit. On top of feeling more tired than is even humanly possible, standing up and preparing any sort of nutritious food for myself just didn’t happen.
I mainly ate carbs. And sugar.
Exhibit A: The Cheese Sandwich. Only acceptable if made with plastic white bread, absolutely no salad and enough saturated fat to bring on an early heart attack.
Exhibit B: Pickled Onion Monster Munch. I could eat six bags of these in one sitting. Am I ashamed of this? Not one bit.
I ate ice like a crazed woman. I would just fill up a pint glass. Correction: Matt/Verity/or anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot of my poor, whimpering cries from the sofa, would fetch me a glass of the stuff. I would sit quite happily crunching it between my teeth. I haven’t seen my dentist yet, but I doubt she’ll be a fan of my recent hobby. I was obsessed.
But my absolute favourite, couldn’t-get-enough-of-it craving wasn’t even food. It was soap. Just the smell of a bar of soap was enough to send me into a frenzy. Yes, I licked the bar of soap. And I particularly liked a white clay face scrub – so much in fact, that I had to stop using it.
I had this weird preoccupation with cleaning products when I was expecting Verity as well. I can remember vividly, sitting on the kitchen floor, scouring the list of ingredients on the box of washing powder, deciding just how much harm it may cause me and my unborn child. Don’t worry, I didn’t indulge. But just as I did then, I turned to Love Hearts to satisfy the craving . It’s something to do with their chalky, soapy, foaming texture that hit the spot. I don’t even like them now.
So that’s pretty much what I’ve eaten for the past year. Apart from a couple of weeks mid-August when I felt slightly normal, I just haven’t been interested in food. But, my taste buds have thankfully recovered and I’m back in the kitchen again and loving it. More importantly though, despite my less than wholesome diet, I still managed to grow a beautiful, healthy, 9lb 3oz baby girl.