Friday, November 15, 2013

Sometimes It's A Need!

I never had real pregnancy cravings while I was pregnant with Alex or Spain. Oh sure, certain things sounded good, but I was never consumed by the overpowering desire to consume the object of my thoughts.

Until now.

Between my extreme morning sickness and my inability to drink most fluids, I've had to be very careful to stay hydrated. One evening, I realized a popsicle would be a fantastic treat for me. I waddled to the freezer and was slightly dismayed to see that we only had mixed berry popsicles. My pregnant senses do not like mixed berry flavored anything. 
I added popsicles to the shopping list, then took my customary place on the couch. 

Fast forward to bedtime. I couldn't sleep. My every thought was consumed by popsicles. I could all but feel my lips wrapping around the frozen piece of nirvana. My dreams were filled with me begging Sweet Husband to bring popsicles home after PT, and in one dream I remember crying because he only brought home four teeny tiny popsicles. FOUR. 

In another dream, I realized that I had a giant bald spot on the top of my head, but I didn't really care because Sweet Husband had brought home boxes of popsicles for me. 
By the time Sweet Husband got up for PT, I had asked him to grab popsicles on his way home no less than eight times. In my mind it was set in stone. As Sweet Husband walked past me on his way out of our room, I grabbed his arm like a woman possessed and rasped "Don't forget the popsicles!". It could have been my pregnancy induced dementia or the fact that I had been waking up all night long, but in the darkness I could see confusion sweep across Sweet Husband's face. 
"What?" He asked. In a moment of lucidness, I realized that I may not have vocalized my need for popsicles in reality. 
"Please stop by the store and get some popsicles on your way home. Not a ton of them, just two or three boxes."
He nodded, probably doubting my mental awareness.

The hours ticked by as I waited for him to return home. I fell into short sleeping fits, where once again, popsicles taunted me in my dreams. I was so thirsty, but I knew I couldn't drink anything in the house without spending the next half hour purging every trace of it from my body.

Finally, after an eternity, Sweet Husband arrived home. I groggily worked my body into an upright position, I slowly, made my way to the kitchen, I opened the freezer to see that Sweet Husband had arranged the popsicles by order of nausea-inducing properties (I LOVE HIM!).
I selected my popsicle and trudged back to bed, where I snuggled myself under the blankets and finally tasted the sweet frozen nectar.

(The first one stayed down. Every popsicle since, has not.)


  1. Oh no! I feel a little bad that this made me laugh. So I have to ask.. now that you can't eat them without getting sick... has the craving subsided or do you still want them? Hope things are getting better!

    1. Popsicles are dead to me. I definitely don't want them anymore!