Wednesday, 30 December 2009
There's a reason I haven't written anything on this blog for nearly two weeks. It's called morning sickness, or more appropriately in German, Schwangerschaftsübelkeit, which assigns no particular time of day to the sickness that, in my days, has been all consuming.
I can't think about food, let alone write about it. Writing requires me to conjure flavours, scents and textures in the mind of my mouth and nose, and I just can't, not without feeling like I've been spun me around 10 times and left in a puddle of torrid nausea.
I'm resigned to eating whatever my mind can settle on without spinning. I wake up hungry and nauseous and wait, until out of my mind's mud the image of the miracle food emerges, always one that can stand up to my nausea without a wobble.
Although there are some foods that can master this stillness for more than a week (like dry ryvitas), most begin to shiver after one or two days. Last week, fruit yoghurt passed every stability test, but this week it's producing a lack lustre performance. Two weeks ago, I thought a clear, nutritious chicken stock could see me through all of this, but now I can't even write the word chicken without opening the window and deep breathing.
There are various reasonings assigned to this pointed nausea in the early stages of pregnancy. Most are to do with a pregnant woman's need to be incredibly attuned, sensually, to possible environmental toxins. Everything smells more clearly of what it is, and this immediately evokes either a sensual revulsion, or appetite. Worst offenders this week: bad breath, stale air, cigarette smoke and that once seductive jamón.
Hopefully, I've only got four weeks left on this nausea merry-go-round. And although I don't like pessimism, I also want to forewarn of what I expect to be four mostly silent weeks from me. I will be back, I promise, brimming with appetite, enthusiasm and maybe even a whole new website!
Just one last thing, a thank you, to my wonderful Mathew, who has, without complaint, finished off all the miracle foods I embrace and then abandon to the refrigerator. Only four more jars of fruit yoghurt to go my love...