This is post two in a three-part series that documents each of my pregnancies. I wanted to capture my memories of these child-bearing years before they become too hazy in mind…
Talitha Joy…
Nausea. I thought I had experienced a touch of nausea while pregnant with your sister, but it turns out I hadn’t. Food aversions are not the same as lying on the couch as your stomach swirls, knowing you should eat while finding the thought of all food revolting. You were my introduction to that feeling. One night I made this rather ornate honey chicken dish from a recipe I had been saving for months. As I floured the chicken and made the sauce, my appetite started to wane. By the time I had this steaming delicacy on the table, I was repulsed by the elaborate meal that took me a full hour to cook. Micah and Kayla began digging in, and Kayla looked at me and said, “Are you part-Asian, Jen? Because this is good!” At that very moment, I dropped my fork and walked into my dark bedroom. I had never thrown up in pregnancy before, but that evening I hovered near the toilet, just in case.
Taco Bell. I’m sort of sad to admit it, but the one food that sounded good to me in my first trimester with you was Taco Bell. In weeks 6-11 of pregnancy I would probably “make a run for the border” at least twice a week. Chalupas and nachos were my jam. Nothing builds a healthy placenta like processed cheese and low-quality ground beef.
Dissertation. When we thought about trying for second child, we knew it might overlap with the writing of my dissertation. Micah joked that the baby would be a ticking time bomb to keep me focused on writing. What we didn’t know is that my dissertation process would align with my pregnancy EXACTLY. I became “ABD” (got my proposal approved) the week I became pregnant with you. I wrote page after page, chapter after chapter as my belly grew. Many of my bump pictures were taken at our local library where I would sit for hours and write on the days Z went to preschool. I wrapped up my last chapter and submitted it to my director when you were two weeks. I literally typed the final words with you strapped to my chest in the Solly Wrap. Although I am proud of my dissertation, you were the far more important project, my dear.
