Powers...or plagues?

Forgive me if my blog has become exclusively baby oriented, but that seems to be on my mind most these days. I read blogs that have become exclusively baby, or exclusively marriage, or exclusively anything, and I get bored. I like variety. I read this blog this morning about cravings and heightened senses during pregnancy, and was surprised to find it so true. My sense of smell was so heightened during my first few months, I thought I was becoming a super-hero with the ability to smell anything and everything around me, similar to how cats can see in the dark or how bumblebees can sense and respond to ultraviolet wavelengths of light.

I had to stop wearing scented deodorant because I couldn't stand the sweet, fruity smell of it. I went and bought unscented antiperspirant, with my head falling in shame. I've bought the same scent of deodorant since 2002 when I moved away for college and learned to shop for things on my own. It's my favorite scent, and I was so sad to give it up. But I finally had to come to terms with the fact that at the end of the pregnant day, the smell made me so sick. My sister used a lemon lotion daily that I finally had to beg her to stop wearing.

The first few months of my pregnancy were probably the most clean in my life. I brushed my teeth morning and night and used mouthwash and super intense mints or mouth strips constantly because the smell of my bad breath made me ill. I showered every morning and soon every night, because the smell of my own body made me sick. I could smell my dirty hair, my bad breath, my skin. Yuck. Fortunately, most of that has gone away, except for the deodorant. I still have to wear unscented, and pray that once I have the baby, my sense of smell will calm the hell down and I can go back to my coveted scent.

As for cravings, the first few months were filled with food aversions, rather than food cravings (except for milk, which was the elixir of the Gods, and which I drank frequently throughout every day). "Why does pregnancy make one so sick?" I wondered. "It seems so counterproductive and illogical of biology to cause a woman to lose weight rather than gain it during pregnancy. Silly nature. Don't you want me to GAIN weight for the sake of the baby?" I found myself being sick all of the time or repulsed at most edible things except milk, and even losing pounds. Anything greasy, meaty, or prenatal vitamin-y made me puke.

Then about two months ago, when I started to show, the cravings came on. I woke up one morning and had to have blueberry muffins, so help me. So the first thing I did was make some, and ate half the pan. I've craved cucumbers, yogurt, soft serve from McDonalds, the salad from Olive Garden, pitas from Pita Pit (why, oh why isn't there one around here?), and of all the strange things to crave, food with the quality of GRINDY. I made my sister accompany me to the gas station, where I searched for food with the qualities I can only describe as grindiness.

"Grind'i-ness- n. 1) the quality of being grindy, 2) the grittiness and crunch and accompanying dissolution of the substance in between one's teeth, 3) the ability to be ground to fine particles in a particularly satisfying way."

Yes, that definition is made up. I found smarties and candy necklaces and went home and chewed on them for an hour. Maren, bless her heart, brought me two grocery bags full of "grindy" foods like pixie sticks, lemon drops, and lick-a-sticks when she heard about my strange craving. Perhaps a mild form of Pica? I've heard of the strangest non-food cravings amongst pregnant women, including things like dirt and chalk. I've heard of women sitting out in their backyards, eating the dirt from their gardens, or casually running their fingers along a dirty car and lifting their fingers to their mouth to partake. One person in my family (no names, she made me promise) had to go back to the store 4 times to find the right chalk, the one that had the best texture for eating. "How weird!" I thought, and then remembered my childhood days of licking rocks and the sidewalk. And a few weeks ago, for the life of me, I had to physically restrain myself from going outside, lying down on the sidewalk, caressing it like an old childhood comfort item, and then taking a lick.

Perhaps it's time to go back for some more smarties or find some ice to chew? Ice chunks, anyone?