As you might remember, early on, I started thinking about devising a Masters in Expat Housewifery Program.
It's been on the back burner for a while, but the past few months have convinced me it is necessary. And not only is it necessary, but also that there should be an attached, or perhaps sub-program, in Expat Pregnancy.
It would include classes such as, but not limited to...
Medical mindset 101:
Norwegian's do it differently. That is all. Get with the program or don't be shamed for how you want it handled.
Worries 101:
What happens, happens. Come see us at about 20 weeks.
Do the Math 206:
They like babies so much, they'll pay you to have them.
and most importantly for my purposes here:
Cravings 301:
If you think you'll want it, save yourself some hassle and get it yourself --- from home
On Friday night, I spent part of the evening talking to C., a Norwegian friend who is about 32 weeks pregnant. She and I have similar thoughts that pregnancy is a whole lot of "meh" but that the end result is worth it.
When I asked her if she had any big cravings, she said no, that other than apples, she was just eating whatever. Nothing cravings-wise has driven her nuts, which shocked me, but then we went on to something else...
But Sunday afternoon, I was lamenting the distance between me and the nearest* Whole Foods, which for those you who may not know, is one of the greatest places in quite possibly the entire United States.
And by greatest, I am not talking about the "whole" part, I absolutely mean the "food" part.
Whole Foods is a giant organic grocery store, but organic in a cool way, not in a "chokes you with the smell of pachouli and feet" way.
Most importantly, it has miles and miles of prepared food and encourages sampling, so you don't have to commit** to a selection until you are absolutely sure.
And on this Sunday, I would have strongly considered selling my first born*** for just ten minutes in Whole Foods. I would speed sample the soup bar selections and choose the best chunky soup, then head over to the hot counter for a mess of collard greens and a container of the best macaroni and cheese. ever.
Then with the remaining seven or so minutes, I would just taste all the things I have been missing.
I explained all of this to Husband, who just listened a bit and handed me a tissue when I got teary, because not only could I not have ANY of it, but all the grocery stores are closed on Sunday, so we couldn't even try to approximate it.
(I also wanted a mani/pedi, but that is another post altogether.)
It made me start thinking about how C. said she never had any major cravings in the way I described. One possibility is that she just didn't. Every pregnancy is different, so that could just be that.
Another (and this is the one that I'm going with...) is that a pregnant woman craves what is familiar and comforting.
Even if you explain in scientifically (ie. a craving is your body needing to fulfill a need for a particular mineral or vitamin...) it only makes sense that you crave what you know.
And if she craved, say for instance, Norwegian staples like salmon or reindeer meat or a sheep's skull or caviar in a tube, she could get it and quickly.
But me, I'm hosed.
There's no Thai food, at least not what I am used to eating. The tomatoes are not from my Nana's garden. Vanilla/Chocolate combo milkshake? Bwahahaha. Though there's a rumor that collard greens can be had with the right connections, I haven't seen them yet. Pudding had to be shipped from 7,000 miles away. I am even having a hard time find a good crunchy tart pickle. And there is no such thing as pickled okra.
But to be fair, the hosing is not complete...as I sat on the sofa sniffing, Husband, who had just been listening patiently, got up, headed to the kitchen and started pulling all sorts of things out of the cabinets and refrigerator.
He spread out things on the counter and chopped them all up...
And made a pot of soup-y goodness...
And cooked until it got even better...
And then served it up...
And it was about as close, to a Whole Foods soup I would have chosen, as it could be...
And then served it up...
And it was about as close, to a Whole Foods soup I would have chosen, as it could be...
So that's something...
*564 miles---it turns out there are a few in London, still not helpful on a Sunday afternoon in Stavanger. Also, it's approximately 5249 miles to the one in our neighborhood in Atlanta, also not helpful in the least to my predicament.
**This also is a big selling point to me in all things.
**I kid, I kid. No one can have Pickle, not for any price. Though if I know you, you can hold it or change a diaper, especially the yuck ones, whenever you'd like, free of charge.
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