Wednesday, December 17, 2003

The Garlic Test 

Those who've read the earliest posts may recall that Kataine was pregnant earlier in our relationship. Mostly, it went as I'd learned to expect from TV shows or whatever. You go to the doctor. You don't drink. Mother gets a big belly. No smoking. Cravings for pickles and ice cream at midnight. Morning sickness. And one thing I didn't expect.

Food aversions.

She couldn't eat garlic. Or fish. Period. In fact, even the smell made her nauseous to the point of vomiting. And I had a loaf of garlic bread. Like, whole cloves of garlic bread. I ate the last third of it in one sitting, because it was going stale. I couldn't talk with my face pointed her for three days, at least.

Fast forward to today. Every time she's feeling nauseous, I whip out the jar of garlic we keep in the fridge. Garlic test! Make sure you're not pregnant! She sniffs. Nah. Then, about a week ago. I open up that jar. Her nose gets within half a foot. And then she's yelling and getting away from that jar as fast as she can. "You're pregnant!" I declare.

"No I'm not, I couldn't be."

She's been feeling nauseous recently. We thought it was just Prozac. But it didn't make her nauseous before, when she was pregnant. Even taking the weekly dose, about 90mg all at once (normal dose is 20-60mg/day). And she's been despressed, which was the whole point of taking Prozac now anyway. When we went to Golden Corral tonight, she couldn't keep barely anything down. So we got a pregnancy test.

It came up positive. I'm a father, again. And I knew a week ago, before any test known to medical science could detect it. Woo! I'm fertile and ingenious!

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