First-Trimester Hiatus Blog 2:  “Onions, hormones, and soup….”
Blog Written at 10 Weeks pregnant, November 5, 2012

The onset of hormones and related nausea make for a quick transition from home-cooked meals every night, to no dinner on the table. Needless to say, we’ve had a lack of meals from scratch lately. I’ve managed the occasional home made pizza or simple casserole, only to deem the act of cooking worthy enough an effort to warrant dining out the next evening.

One day at around 6 weeks pregnant, I found myself determined to have a good meal awaiting Grayson when he got home from work. I concocted a plan. I would cook in the afternoon, when I wasn’t feeling quite as queezy, then let it sit in the crock pot until Gray got home. I even executed the plan! When Zeke went down for his nap, I began washing and chopping potatoes and leeks. It was simple enough, with minimum preparation I sauteed the leeks in a little bit of butter, salt and pepper. To this I added vegetable broth, the potatoes, and some more seasoning. I allowed the soup to cook through for 20 minutes, then I scooped half out, pureed it in the blender, then mixed it back into the pan, creating a finished Potato and Leek Soup (made without cream, but super creamy and delicious–or so Grayson says it was) Into the crock pot I poured it. Dinner was made! I felt quite accomplished for about a half hour, that is, until the usual lovely-but-now-stomach-turning aroma began to waft through the house. Four more hours until Grayson arrived home, meaning at least four more hours of sitting in this house filled with foodie smells. By the time Gray got home and we sat down to enjoy the soup, I wanted nothing to do with it. It’s marvelous stench wafting through the house had completely turned me off to the soup. I managed four small bites and then ordered a pizza.

Grayson had a couple of rain days this week, and by his last day he was feeling slightly in a rut from not working. It’s funny how a trip to the grocery store and some time in the kitchen can aid this man’s ruts. Clam chowder was on his mind. It was definitely not on mine, but hey, whatever to make the man happy! And so he perused through the market and selected his ingredients. Clams, carrots, celery, red wine vinegar  and half and half. Returning home I opted for something quick to fill my sick belly, but Grayson set to work in the kitchen. As usual, his first step in cooking was to consult the internet. He watched three videos on how to make a proper clam chowder. He spent the next hour bent over the counter chopping and preparing his ingredients. He chopped a rather potent (fresh) onion from the farmers market. One onion was enough to send me to tears even in the next room over. However, it could have been the combination of onion juice along with my hormonal self watching Parenthood on Netflix. Indeed, onions and hormones are enough to send any pregnant woman into tears over a sitcom.

As Grayson cooked, I avoided the usually alluring smells from the kitchen, but he found me and commented that, “Cooking makes me feel so much better about life!” His comment made me stop and appreciate what we’ve been able to accomplish over the past months of eating real food. We’ve always enjoyed cooking, but throughout this journey we’ve been pushed and stretched in learning new techniques, and how to properly prepare foods that we’d never even brought into our kitchen before this all began. With the learning curve has also come a great appreciation for cooking. Some days it is indeed a chore, and some days require more time and energy than others, but overall we’ve found a great joy and creative outlet in the kitchen. Grayson’s comment also made me very glad to have my man chef back, even if I wouldn’t be enjoying his delicious soup. Unfortunate, too, because there is now a huge pot– 8 servings to be exact– of clam chowder sitting atop our stove. I keep telling myself, and I know it is true, this is just for a time.  There are seasons to life, and even some passions might require a break for certain seasons. This is such a tiny sacrifice, anyways–giving up for a time the joy of cooking and enjoying food–to bring this little precious life into the world next May. And I take comfort knowing that in just a short time I will again be able to share great food with my family around our dinner table, and that the dinner table will have one more chair around it.