I’ve been advised against writing ranty posts, but heck care, I’ll write what I want, when I want.
Been feeling absolutely crappy today. All in all, I’d say this has been a good pregnancy thus far, I am usually upbeat, cheerful and happy – rather uncharacteristically me😛
Apart from the dreadful first few weeks where I had all-day sickness, I’ve been relatively free of mood swings, bad tempers and tantrums which are said to be very common in pregnancies due to all the changing hormones. I think the hubs has got off easily in this aspect😛
However, the reason I have been feeling miserable is this : Food. Yes, those pregnancy cravings. I know for a fact that I have been trying with all my might NOT to think of food, and when an urge for a certain food hits me, I try to brush it off as much as I can. The first craving that hit me was at the end of my first trimester. I wanted rendang so badly, and having no ingredients for making rendang, I brushed the thought off. Till about 11pm at night. I was grouchy as heck and I finally went to the kitchen and made chicken curry instead and told myself “this is rendang, it tastes just like rendang” x100000 times.
Then onwards, no cravings hit. Except for the occasional love for green apples + asam (best combo EVAR), nothing major hit me. Till last week. I wanted root beer. Bah, just plain ol’ rootbeer you say? Grab it at the supermarket you say? Well, get this, THERE AIN’T NO FRIGGING ROOTBEER HERE. I’m not even asking for the icy cold ohhhh sooooo yummy A&W rootbeers. I’d be plenty happy with just a CAN of any generic rootbeer. But naa-ahhh. You can’t find rootbeer in Italy. Not where I am anyway. I googled it, and realized that rootbeer is simply not something that you find in Italy, unless you’re lucky enough to be living in a big city that has one of those supermarket selling foreign, imported items. So what did I do? I bought a can of Coke light to placate myself (you know, to CONVINCE myself that it tastes like rootbeer). This time it didn’t work. I took one sip and poured the rest into the toilet bowl. Did you know that Coke is so corrosive that some people actually use it to clean toilets. I digress.
Coke –> Rootbeer, FAIL.
And then today, of all the friggin things in the world, I couldn’t get CHUKA HOTATE off my mind. For the uninitiated, chuka hotate is basically marinated scallop frills served cold in Japanese restaurants. I never fail to order this when I’m at a Japanese restaurant.
Or, it could come like this:
To try to get rid of the images of chuka hotate off my mind, I ate two slices of bread + peanut butter, an apple, a glass of milk, 2 chocolate chip cookies. Nope, it was still at the back of my head. And that was at 10am in the morning. At about 3pm, I had lunch. I ate a place of rice with potatoes+peas+minced meat+acar (Indian pickles). I was full. I still am. But what’s on my mind? C H U K A H O T A TE!
And no. The lousy Japanese restaurants here don’t have it. Japanese food here = SASHIMI, raw fish, soba, that’s all thank youverymuchpleasecomeagainOMGIWANNAKILLYOU.
Then in hopes of cheering myself up, I watched Everybody Loves Raymond on DVD. It never fails to cheer me up. Except today. Oh God, I hope its not an omen or God forbid a SIGN. SOBS.
This episode had Debra who was pregnant with twins annoucing to the family that they were expecting twin boys. Raymond’s mother is so happy, she tells Debra to “eat all you want, dear, because if a pregnant woman doesn’t get to eat what she wants, then the baby will get a birthmark the shape of the food she craved for”.
It sure opened the floodgates. I sobbed my eyes out, simply feeling sorry for myself, and for little bub. I’m sorry little bub, mommy tried, but this town doesn’t have anything. ANYTHING. Please don’t get a birthmark the shape of chuka hotate or a rootbeer can, or anything resembling the letters A and W. I promise you I’ll eat/drink all those things when we get back to Malaysia ok?
Feeling miserable is an understatement. Not only am I feeling miserable, I’m also feeling a little scared.
Sigh. Gimme a break already. I’m not even craving for unreasonable things like say, durian, or foie gras, or beggar’s chicken or sharksfin soup.
Just chuka hotate. And rootbeer.
*all images courtesy of Google