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      November 27, 2018

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      November 19, 2018

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food aversions

The Lasagna – A Story Of Love, Betrayal, Redemption & Rejection
ParenthoodPopular PostsPregnancy

The Lasagna – A Story Of Love, Betrayal, Redemption & Rejection

by Jill November 26, 2014
written by Jill

Gather ’round, and let me tell you a tale- a hunt for lasagna that nearly ended my marriage.

It all began on a Christmas Eve 2 years ago. I was 10ish weeks pregnant… and on the tail end of the flu. Friends? Do not get the flu when you are pregnant.

My first trimesters are always 12-16 weeks of my hate/hate relationship with food. I am incredibly fortunate in that I don’t puke. I also just don’t eat.

I can’t eat.

CAN. NOT. EAT.

It’s food aversions to the max. Water aversions. Smell aversions. Thoughts of food aversions.

So when my mind does settle on something it’s willing to consider allowing past the gate of my clenched teeth, I have to give it SUPER IMPORTANT status, and set out to hunt it down. Immediately.

And so it was, on that Christmas Eve, while on a 6 hour road trip back home from visiting family (so that’s 1st trimester pregnant, the flu, AND A CAR RIDE all working against me), it came to me that perhaps I might like to eat a lasagna.

Yes… yes. A lasagna sounded quite palatable. Not just any old gourmet, homemade lasagna, though. I craved the salty, processed goodness of a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna.

Had I ever eaten one of these before? Not in recent memory. But my brain was convinced it knew exactly what it would taste like, and it was convinced it was LITERALLY the only thing I even remotely wanted to eat for the past week.

We arrived back home at 8 pm on Christmas Eve, a car full of luggage, family presents, and 2 cranky kids who were anxious for Santa to arrive that night.

We also arrived home to a house with no food in it, and certainly no Stouffer’s frozen lasagna. So we drove right past and went to the only place in town that was still open- Walmart, which is exactly the kind of place that carries Stouffer’s lasagna in bulk, so it was good. Except the place was to close in 30 minutes.

I’d been talking about the lasagna for at least the last hour of the drive. Intermittently, of course. Very trepidatiously, as if too much talk of it would change my mind.

Regardless, Scott knew it’s the only thing I wanted to eat, but he was not on board. Some of his rebuttals were:

“SERIOUSLY? That’s disgusting, Jill. Do you know how much salt is in there?”
“Well, I’m not getting it for everyone. I don’t want to eat that. Why don’t we get something else? There’s NOTHING else you want to eat?”
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll just get something different for the kids and me.”

Scott and Leyna, just a tiny tot at the time, jumped out of the car to run in while I stayed in the car with sleeping Kendall.

To me, the understanding was that the lasagna was written in Sharpie on the imaginary shopping list. Whatever else he wanted to throw in the cart was fine, but the lasagna was going to make it’s way out of the store doors and eventually into my famished, fickle stomach.

It didn’t.

There are 2 different stories here, and to this day we will each hold up our own versions as truth. Scott called from inside and said something about tacos. He was cutting out, and he was in a rush since the store was trying to close. I agreed to the tacos FOR EVERYONE ELSE.

He thought I finally came around to understanding the toxic sludge that I was craving and agreed to tacos for everyone.

He left the frozen lasagna behind, though I didn’t know this until we pulled out of the parking lot, the store doors locking as we drove away.

What followed is an emotional meltdown I can only compare to what would happen if someone took a toddler’s lovie and lit it on fire as they watched.

I felt betrayed. LEGITIMATELY. Betrayed.

I felt belittled and ignored and DEEPLY saddened. I sobbed uncontrollably as I sputtered on about trust and love and despair through the rivers of snot that dripped down my chin.

Oh, you guys. It was just as bad or worse than I’m describing it.

And Scott, befuddled and frustrated, ranted on about me being irrational and dramatic. Which I think we alllllll know how a pregnant woman will react to that.

It was, without a doubt, THE worst fight we’ve ever had.

After a couple hours of me, crying in the fetal position in bed back at home (oh yes, serious… but also remember- FLU), Scott came in with keys in hand and told me he was headed out. He’d be right back. I assumed he probably needed to get batteries for one of the toys or something.

He walked back in carrying a bag from Walgreens full of nothing but 2 single-serve portions of Stouffer’s frozen lasagna.

On the table sat my laptop, open to a Google search for Walgreens info, and another tab with a search for where to buy the Stouffer’s lasagna.

We hugged, and he wiped my tears. We made up. He put one of the servings in the microwave for me.

And 15 minutes later, I took the first long-awaited bite of the lasagna I so desperately craved.

Then I spit it out and choked, “Oh God, this is disgusting. I can’t eat this….. Take it. Get it away from me.”

********************

We still have the 2nd serving of lasagna.

IMG_7187

November 26, 2014 20 comments
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EXTREME Food Aversions While Pregnant- Was This You?
PregnancyThe Story

EXTREME Food Aversions While Pregnant- Was This You?

by Jill January 29, 2013
written by Jill

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for a while, but I had to get out of the trenches before I felt safe enough to document it and ask about it.

With all 3 pregnancies, I’ve never really got to the point of puking when I felt sick, save a couple times that I think were more likely attributed to mild food poisoning. Now, please know how VERY grateful I am that that came to pass. I hate puking more than just about anything in this world. I will fight it with every ounce of will power I have in me.

Hate. It.

But with each pregnancy, the worst part for me has been the food aversions, and they seem to increase in intensity and the length of time they stick around each time I get pregnant. I’m not talking about being averse to most foods, and having to live off of toast and water for a day or two. I’m talking not being able to stomach the sight, let alone the taste, of ANYTHING, not even water sometimes.

This was the worst for me around weeks 10 and 11, though I still fight with it off and on now. The week of Christmas, I think I could have fit all the food I managed to get into my stomach on one dinner plate. I had to choke down water in small sips.

There was a point when I thought, “Do I have to go to the hospital for this?”

People were misinterpreting my being so sick with my having hyperemesis gravidarum– a condition that results from severe vomiting, leading to dehydration (what Kate Middleton has/had). I felt awful when they would assume that. “Surely I must be overreacting to this if people think I have it that bad,” I thought. Because I never puked.

Though, I can’t say I wouldn’t have, had I given my body something to throw up?

Related: Water On The Rocks, A Pica Lust Story

I searched and searched online for warning signs of “extreme” food aversions, but all I found were the typical anecdotal tales of being repulsed by certain foods, and having to eat nothing but mac & cheese for a week. Nothing really talked about any dangers of the worst version of it.

The good news is obviously this came to an end (at least the extreme version of it), and the baby and I are fine. I’m certainly not implying that what I dealt with was on the same, dangerous level as hyperemesis gravidarum, but I do think it was a pretty intense, awful thing to deal with.

I guess I’m just wondering if any of you went through something similar? How sick did you get? What did you do to cope?

Let’s make this a place for a discussion about this, and hopefully others struggling with it will be more successful in a Google search for insight in the future than I was.

January 29, 2013 170 comments
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PregnancyThe Story

Hold Me. I’m Scared Of This Baby.

by Jill January 25, 2013
written by Jill

This baby is trying to break me. It’s testing me.

I’m in the 2nd trimester- the  honeymoon trimester- and it’s laughing in my face. This pregnancy has been the hardest of the 3 in terms of how I feel. Granted, kicking things off at 9 weeks with full blown flu certainly didn’t help, but it feels like I’ve been dealing with some form of blerg and gag ever since.

There was a brief window last week when I thought, “BEHOLD! The 2nd trimester is nigh! And it is good!” And then this week happened. Headaches, indigestion, aches, pains, and YAY the food aversions are baaaAAACK.

This baby has made me hate nearly everything I once loved.

Coffee? Hate.
Wine? Disgusts.
Chocolate? Wretch.
Any and all food? So much hate.
Husband? There are moments of strong loathing.
Pets? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU STINK.

Hell, even by the end of this I’m sure I’ll be hating sleep, my most favorite thing of all.

The only thing it hasn’t made me hate are my other children (though be sure my temper is much shorter with them at times). I think this has to do with all 3 being born of the same womb lined in evil powers… that they can’t use against each other.

Instead, the 3rd will get here, and it will be like the trifecta of evil doom is complete, and they’ll form some sort of jungle animal when they all roll together and shoot me with their laser beams.

I am very scared.

January 25, 2013 20 comments
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PregnancyThe Story

Breaking Up With Pinterest

by Jill January 3, 2013
written by Jill

Because food and I have a really tempestuous relationship right now, and Pinterest isn’t being very sensitive about all that.

I mean, I just saw a picture of RAW HAMBURGER MEAT next to a picture of a BLOODY NOSE. I will cut you, Pinterest.

Right after I puke on you.

Even the sight of cooked chicken sets me over the edge sometimes, and if I have to look at one more photoshoped “thinspiration” picture of a girl and all her freaking ribs showing, I’m going to roundhouse kick a unicorn.

You make me pukey AND ragey, Pinterest. This isn’t healthy. This can’t go on.

 

January 3, 2013 18 comments
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PregnancyThe Story

It’s not you, it’s not even me, IT’S THE BABY.

by Jill May 14, 2010
written by Jill

Dear Husband,

I get the feeling you’re taking this whole food aversion phase a little too personally. Here’s the thing, it’s not about you. It’s not about your food, your cooking. It makes NO SENSE that I don’t even want to see the raw hamburger meat (gag, typing that made me gag) let alone smell it…cooking, I GET THAT. It makes NO SENSE that, though I really wanted Mexican food yesterday, I can’t stand the thought of eating the black bean quesadillas you made tonight and instead REALLY want a bowl of noodles covered in soy sauce. I GET THAT. Can you just be okay with things not making sense right now?

And can you please, oh my God, please just stop suggesting random shit to eat? I have looked in the pantry, I have taken inventory of the refrigerator, I know my options, dear. And the reason why I’m not eating them, ANY of them? They all make me a shade of sick. So please, please stop making me recall this laundry list of various shades of sick by rattling them off to me.

Remember how before I was growing your baby I used to be able to feed myself? Hell, you would leave me for 2 weeks at a time for business trips and I managed to feed your son and myself the whole time. We were both well fed when you got home. The thing is – I CAN STILL DO THAT. I know you want to do your part, and stuff. I know you want to take some sort of active role in the growth and development of this fetus, and I know that means you take pride in feeding me. I promise I will give you all the opportunities to do just that as soon as the second trimester starts.

Until then, this is the rule. I will feed myself what I want when I want. I am politely declining any help from you for the time being. It’s not you, it’s not even me, IT’S THE BABY. Blame the fetus.

Love,
Your wife who is SO happy she was able to eat pad thai tonight instead of those bean quesadillas

8.5 weeks pregnant

Halfway through this post I laughed and remembered a very similar one I wrote around the same time during my pregnancy with Kendall, though that letter directly took issue with my finicky fetus.

May 14, 2010 8 comments
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