My water broke at 1:30 in the morning. My lamaze instructor had told us that it wasn’t like in the movies, but to expect “tablespoons, cups, or bucketfuls of water” if it broke. So, mine was tablespoons (is this too much information to share…? Sorry….). My husband clearly wasn’t paying attention during this part of lamaze because he was convinced we wouldn’t need to go to the hospital. Of course the hospital didn’t agree with him, so off we went.
A few hours later we settled in and by this time my 37 week pregnant stomach was telling me one thing and one thing only….”I WANT FOOD. NOW. PLEASE. RIGHT. NOW.” For anyone who hasn’t been down this road before, food is a no-no. Because….I don’t really know…I guess they just figure that an extremely uncomfortable series of hours should be made more uncomfortable by denying women who are eating for two anything to eat. All you can eat are ice chips, and let me tell you, I was packing them away. Not quite the same as potato chips, but at that moment, I made do.
So, fast forward eleventy-million hours later, and I gave birth to one of the amazing loves of my life. This was an amazing moment, which I should totally write about one of these 31 days, but right now, I am going the very shallow route and writing about food.
So, remember that my water broke at 1:30 AM. Dinner was prior to that…let’s say 6:00 PM. Labor, as I said, lasted eleventy million hours, then I had the fun and excitement of a C-Section. Another side benefit of C-Sections? No solid food for another eleventy million hours after. Again, not sure why….so clear soups and jello for me. Now I know what it is like to be 100 years old with no teeth.
So finally, it was time…dinner time…first meal in like 3 days? I couldn’t wait!!! My mouth watered as I slipped that sterile cover that is made out of the same pink plastic that thing you barf into is made of over to the side to reveal the wondrous, steamy, flavorful….BEEF STROGANOFF!!! Beef STROGANOFF? Beef stroganoff……
OK, so under normal circumstances-I wouldn’t touch beef stroganoff with a ten foot pole. My mom used to make it and I would carefully wipe that beige-y, cream-y sauce off of every nook and cranny of every piece and then tried to choke it down, one miniscule bite at a time. But this meal, this, yes, beef stroganoff (from a hospital), was the most amazing thing I have ever eaten. For years afterwards, I would crave it, mouth watering, only wishing I could have someone serve me that little pink tray one more time.