So, yesterday, a friend invited my husband and me over for dinner, and she asked this question: “Do either of you have any allergies or aversions I should know about?”
Normally, we’re totally not picky.¹ This time, however, I felt like the Queen of High Maintenance. Thank you, pregnancy, for giving me a ready-made list of foods I either can’t have (and totally want!) or can’t stand (and won’t want for a long while). I typed up The List.
No undercooked meats or eggs—to which I say BAH. I eat my steaks medium rare and my eggs poached and slightly runny, so alas. I am craving these things but can’t have them.
Same with wine, margaritas, piña coladas. I’m not a habitual drinker, and I never drink to get drunk. I don’t enjoy even being buzzed; I like feeling in control of my body. Simply? I enjoy the taste. I love a good cabernet (with a medium rare steak…that I can’t have). Margaritas and Mexican food? YES. And nothing says “It’s Summer!” like a piña colada. My apologies to those of you who are still getting snow and don’t remember what summer feels like.
The worst is this: no soft cheese, because it’s usually unpasteurized. Apparently, unpasteurized = DANGER. I’m not a huge fan of DANGER, the all-caps version or otherwise.
No brie (cue tears!). No feta (cue river of tears!). No gorgonzola, no bleu. The worst? No goat cheese, no fabulous, fabulous goat cheese (my latest pre-pregnancy food obsession).² Sigh.
But you know what I CAN have?
Lots and lots and LOTS AND LOTS of tacos. Spicy-as-they’ll-let-me-have-them tacos. Fresh, non-greasy avocado/black bean/cilantro/sour cream tacos. Shredded chicken with garlic sauce tacos. Tacos, tacos, tacos, and the occasional burrito.
My husband is starting to despise tacos.
The other thing I’ll get to have at the end of all this? A baby. (No, not to eat, you crazies. To love.) An actual human life, a real someone who has directly benefitted from my sacrificing all these things.
So, my point: most of us? Totally don’t get to have everything we want. This is usually for one of two reasons, sometimes both—either we simply can’t have it, for whatever reason, or we’re choosing not to have it, a sacrifice for a specific reason.
What I’m learning is this: focus on the tacos, y’all.
Tacos taste exponentially better (and they’re already AMAZING) when you’re not dreaming of wine, goat cheese, and steak.
¹Okay, so my husband would say that he is totally not picky. Admittedly, there are some things I…um…prefer. There’s hardly anything I truly DON’T like. On that short list are the following: bologna, mayonnaise, green bean casserole, and scalloped potatoes. I’m even coming around to liking the occasional grapefruit.
²I’m still wondering how women in France deal with this whole no-soft-cheese thing—I’m guessing they roll their eyes at that rule, stuff their faces, and produce healthy babies all while looking like Hot French Mamas. Somehow. Since it was one of the few things my doctor actually mentioned, though, I’m not taking any chances.