Pickles are the gateway drug

When I was pregnant with Elle and then with Little A I craved pickles all the time.  I could not get enough pickles.  Then I got pregnant with the twins right around pickle making season.  I made and canned pickles while I had ferocious morning sickness and by the time I was done the very thought of pickles made me nauseated.  I have not been able to eat a pickle ever since then.  Even the smell bothers me sometimes.

I was thinking about this last night as I was putting away the pickles that I've canned this summer. Am I ever going to be able to eat pickles again?  Or is this just one more reminder that I was pregnant, something that I'll carry with me forever even though the babies are long gone?  It's not the only reminder I have of course. This latest pregnancy (especially) has left lasting marks on me.

Four months after the c-section there's still a large numb area between the incision site and my belly button.  There's another spot below the incision without feeling as well.  Then there's the incision scar itself.  It's not a terrible looking scar but it's not exactly what I would call pretty either.  It's six and a half inches across my abdomen and it's going to be with me for the rest of my life.  Luckily I can't see it very well.  You know, on account of the flap of excess of skin I have after having had my tummy stretched out so much.

I remember how big I got at the end.  I remember a week before the babies were born I was waddling out of the hospital after getting an amnio and a group of people walking in stopped me and said "I don't think you should be leaving!  You're gonna pop any second!"

I remember how uncomfortable I was, how I couldn't sleep at night or take a deep breath.  I remember how I had to sit sideways at the diner table and how shaving my legs became a major aerobic workout.  I remember the morning sickness, the hormone shots, the endless dildo-cam ultrasounds, the way I told Jesse at least a dozen times "This is it!  Never again!"

And then last night I stood in my kitchen holding a jar of pickles and I started to wonder.  What if...

I told myself "I am not going to start looking at surrogacy web sites.  Ok, I'll look at web sites but I won't look at the want ads.  Ok, I'll look at the want ads but I won't read the closely to see if there's a good match out there for me.  Ok, I'll read them closely but I won't let myself think that anyone is perfect for me.  Ok, I'll think they're perfect for me but I won't bookmark their ad.  Ok, I'll bookmark their ad but I won't email them later.  Oh crap."

I blame the pickles.

One year ago today I was hit on by a shoe-shine guy while on my way to get pregnant.