Your head starts to hurt. a slight buzz of a headache. Chalk it up to preggo symptoms. I mean we have so many things happening in our bodies… its hard to say what’s related to pregnancy and what’s not. You paddle on over to the fridge to feed yourself breakfast.  Mom’s cooking… her amazingly concocted meals packed for you laced with grandma – lovin’ for the benefit of my unborn child.
Yes.  This should cure it.  I’m full – but not satisfied.  Something is amiss.  What could it be? How about some tea.  Maybe some fruit.  Banana, my favorite, since I conceived… come to mama.  Nope. That’s not it.

By now the buzzing has stopped… and now… it’s a whiney feeling.  Like a childish nagging.  Like when your mom promised you a toy for good behavior.  I still don’t know what I am feeling like eating.  Then like a tidal wave, stronger than any urge I have ever felt, I knew… Starbucks Lemon Raspberry loaf.  The lemony crumbly spongy cake marbled with tangy raspberry jam, with a dense white icing. Perfection.

I must have it. I must have it right now.

But it’s 11am. Calm down, let the hubz know, he’ll grab one on the way home from work. Simple.

11:07am. What? It’s 11:07? Why is time only inching forward?  Maybe a nap. Yes. A nap is always a good idea.

3:51pm. That nap was unsatisfactory. My face is feeling warm. My eyes brimming with tears… LEMON RASPBERRY LOAF.  LEMON RASPBERRY LOAF. LEMON RASPBERRY LOAF. I might die if I don’t have a bite. 

I might actually die. 

That’s it. I’m not going to wait. That 6 minute walk to my neighbourhood Starbucks was a 17 minute pregnant waddle. But I made it. I bought three slices. 

I broke off a piece. It had what seemed like the perfect ratio of cake to jam to icing. I was in heaven. I died, and went to heaven. 

Preggo cravings. I get it now.