Coffee With Purps

Coffee Conversations with a Purple Girl

Dreaming of Foods

Happy week 14, everyone! Thursdays are when we level up. Baby gets a new fruit to be compared to, or a small animal, or some random “geeky” thing, if you’re following my husband’s web source. This week we’re the size of a house mouse, apparently, but also the size of a beet? Or maybe an apple. Every app I have says a different thing, and I have like four of them. They are getting bigger, anyway, and that’s exciting.

In amongst the plethora of common pregnancy cliches, are two prominent symptoms that people ask about: What have you been craving, and have you had any weird dreams yet. For me, thus far, these two things have been mixed in a most odd fashion. I haven’t been really craving things so much as dreaming about that. I’ve only twice wanted something to the point of calling it a craving. I did make my husband run out and grab me mozzarella sticks, though, so there’s that. My dreams have always been on the weird side, so it’s impossible to tell if my strange dreams are pregnancy induced or if it’s just my average bizarre brain function. The only thing that I can identify as different from before is that my dreams now, almost always, are about food in some way.

My in-laws will never let me forget the dip dream. Early on in my first trimester, just shortly before we told the parents, in fact, I had a dream very specifically about Heluva good french onion dip. The fact that it was so specific, down to the brand, is very amusing to my in-laws, and as it was the first food dream “craving” they heard about, it’s kind of stuck as an in-joke. Since that first dip dream, however, I’ve found myself dreaming about a lot of different foods. Sometimes I wake up wanting them, sometimes the dream passes and I don’t give it much thought after that.

It seems that I can’t escape food dreams anymore. Last night I dreamed about brownies and pierogies, at different times, not together. I haven’t hit any weird combos, yet. I imagine those are still coming. I dreamed about sweet potatoes one night. Specifically sweet potato casserole, which is a Thanksgiving only dish, but I love it. It’s also one of those dishes I didn’t know I loved until I was older. I never tried it at home because I’d had sweet potato for the first time at a friend of my mom’s house when I was like four and didn’t like it and just assumed I didn’t like it ever since. Then I got married and my husband got me to try new things.

Bunny trail aside, it’s been an interesting three months. I’m still waiting for the real cravings to start, and hoping I don’t develop any more aversions to beloved foods. I was okay with my inability to eat kale. Kale is the worst and I will happily take any excuse to avoid it. The saddest thing, though, is that I can’t eat bacon. I just can’t handle it anymore. My sister-in-law made bacon while we were on vacation in August and I took one bite of it and just couldn’t. It was good bacon, too, but it just made my stomach turn. I think that’s the weirdest thing. I love bacon, I remember loving bacon, I recognize it as a taste that I really enjoyed, but I just cannot eat it anymore. Even the smell makes me uncomfortable. I had to roll down the windows in the car the last time my husband got a breakfast sandwich with bacon.

So that’s the sad part of being pregnant. I’m told that might go away after the baby is born and I do hope so. There are so many things that I love that involve bacon and it’s very tiresome to go to my favorite restaurants and look at all the things that would sound so good, except they have bacon in them, so now I can’t eat them. On the bright side, I’ve had to pick new things to get at my usual restaurants, so at least I’m branching out. I haven’t found anything that I didn’t like before that I suddenly do like. My husband was hoping I’d develop a taste for brussels sprouts, but it has not happened. There’s still plenty of time, though, for me to discover strange new preferences. It will be an adventure! Have a lovely day, my friends.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *