One of the biggest banes of pregnancy is the accursed cravings. The backaches and incontinence, I can handle, but the cravings are my achilles’ heel. It’s insatiable. There’s a little voice in my head telling me what to eat all the time, and I just can’t get it to stop. One day it would be chicken wings, then curry, then ice cream (sometimes all at once). And if I so much as recalcitrated against the craving gods, I’d feel so sick it was worse than not eating at all.
To be fair, cravings are actually good. After you satisfy it, it’s totally orgasmic. Like when you locate an itch and scratch the living daylights out of it, or when an elusive sneeze finally surfaces, the satisfaction is intense.
If there were no repercussions, I would eat with wild abandon. Oh wait, I did, and that’s the story of how I gained 50 pounds.
This time around, I had a relatively craving-free first 20 weeks. I was even starting to give myself a little pat on the back for the immense self-control I’ve gained now that I’m a mother. (After you push a human being out of your crotch, you can stake claim to practically anything) But as I realized today, that’s absolute bollocks.
The cravings are back with a vengeance and today, it’s durians. Big, fleshy, aromatic, creamy durians. I could taste the bittersweet tang in my mouth and the smell, oh heavenly! I did make a vain attempt to list all the reasons why durians are bad, but there is no reasoning with the cravings.
So against my better judgment, I went out and decimated three whole durians. And it was exquisite.
