You know how everyone makes all the usual jokes about pregnancy and food cravings? Pickles and ice cream will always be hilarious, but these cravings are a serious force to be reckoned with. If I could bottle them, I’d be rich.
I remember distinctly a feeling of almost possession when I was craving something. Like the baby was calling for protein and my stomach wanted carbs and my bones wanted calcium and my mouth wanted butter and salt – so I ended up eating dark sourdough toast with a 1/4 stick of butter, feta cheese and smoked salmon, sprinkled with jalapeno stuffed green olives. Ah, satisfaction.
And who was I but the vehicle, the deliverer of the goods? None of it was my doing – not the urges, not the recipe development, nuthin’. And it works, right? The body calls, we give it what it needs and wowza, we make a baby. Another human being. How magnificent!
Today, I was trying to write a piece for a client and I was thinking – I wish different parts of my brain would activate like my pregnant body. (FYI, this next part is actually biologically correct. Ha! You do have to be a brain surgeon to run a blog!!!)
- My hindbrain would call for the smooth flow of muscle function so that I could type and sit up straight,
- my limbic system would insist on emotion and sense memory,
- and my neocortex would demand exciting verbs and perfect wordage.
And I’d just sit there at my computer on autopilot spewing viciously remarkable prose until at last I had created a glorious final draft from what was once just a blank page. To the writer? Yes, it’s just as magnificent a feat as the production of a baby. Plus, good copy doesn’t whine or spill milk and it pays for itself. Now that’s a thing of beauty.
Image credit: Bob Fornal