Bionic Mamas

you're not losing a vagina, you're gaining a son

Southern Comfort Food


Happy Monday, internets. I hope you are well.

I am well but nervous. I’ve done a pretty good job, I think, at just relaxing and practicing belief and all that jazz vis-a-vis this month without medical reassurance of this probable pregnancy. It would be untrue to say I haven’t fretted at all, but most days, I’ve been okay. Fertile people do this all the time! And they are fine! But today is the day.

I am nervous for all the reasons you’d expect, gentle readers. I am afraid I am not really pregnant. I am afraid I’m being pregnant wrong. I am afraid this doctor, whom I have not met before (the known nice one wasn’t available for this appointment because of our travel schedule) will yell at me. I’m afraid I will get bad news in front of the Bean and never stop crying.

A friend has offered to watch the Bean, but I’m afraid to take her up on it because it will surely mess up her own toddler’s evening schedule and then she will hate me.

At times like these, nothing will do like the comfort of food.  I did not want to eat at all, but some small, beleaguered zone of rationality in my brain informed me, repeatedly, that this was a very bad idea. It moved my body around the kitchen until iced tea was in my glass, new water in the kettle to refresh the supply, grits* and eggs were boiling in their pans. The fretful majority of my grey matter distracted me into overcooking the egg (I favor a five-minute one with grits), but the rest survived. A little leftover salsa verde from this weekend’s trip to the Red Hook ballfields made everything go down easy; bland food gives my stomach too little to think about, and it starts making up problems.


And so, onward. Eight hours to go.

*I do not appreciate whatever Yankee wiseguy programmed Autocorrect on this phone to replace “grits” with “gross.”

11 thoughts on “Southern Comfort Food

  1. The waiting sucks. But all will be well. I promise.

  2. Ha! I’m originally from the south, and I’m one of those few people that does think grits = gross. Glad you’re doing mostly well, and I have my fingers crossed for your appointment. I do think you should take the neighbor up on her offer to watch Bean. You can reciprocate later.

  3. *Soothing supportive noises and arm pats*. Be brave, little Piglet!

    PS, what exactly are grits?
    Yours sincerely,
    Ignorant European.

    • Grits are God’s gift to breakfast, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Don’t let just anyone make them for you, either, lest you join the benighted hordes who don’t like them because they’ve never eaten them properly.

      Grits are ground corn, not WHOLLY unlike polenta, but not the same. They are a Native American food, and prior to European conquest, the corn used was always nixtamalized, that is, treated with alkali made from ash (from the Nahuatl, nix meaning ashes and tamal meaning corn, as in tamales — many of the best words are from the Nahuatl, such as avocado and chocolate. And axolotl). Nixtamalization makes the niacin in corn dietarily available, which is handy if you don’t want pellagra. Only took the Europeans and their descendants until the mid-1920s to figure that one out again.

      Grits are a savory hot cereal — a crucial point missed by many an observer. They go with butter, salt, and pepper, or with cheese, or with eggs and pork of some kind and maybe red eye gravy. They are stupendous with shrimp, which is how I would introduce you to them if you were here. If you can get that sort of thing at some wacky import store, I highly recommend this recipe: use 1/4 c cheese and generally skip the bacon.)

      Avoid at all costs instant and quick versions of grits. Shudder.

      Thank you for the distracting opportunity to sound off on one of my favorite topics. Xo

  4. MAY! You don’t know grits?! Poor you. They are so great, they even have their own website: (I know nothing about that website, btw, could be crap.)

    6 pm. Your city truly never sleeps does it? I think obs around here close at 12 or something. (Not really.)
    Have some more tea. You’re still pregnant. I know it. xo

    • May needs to visit, doesn’t she? I will come to starr hill if she prefers to be certain of a supply of country ham.

      I am having more tea now. I just made a batch of collards and am setting up for biscuit.

  5. we suffer the same doubt, but like you said, push those worries away and eat (we are actually digging into course grain, homemade cornbread, the west coat version of grits??)…and thinking of you today!

  6. Or you could visit Blighty and have me feed you steak and kidney pudding and treacle tart. Your arteries will slam shut, but by golly you will be comforted.

  7. Fingers crossed!!
    Am now thinking about trying grits.
    -Another Ignorant European

  8. I’m waiting impatiently for your update.

    I regret to say I have never had grits. But I do like polenta. And as a mostly wheat-free girl, I probably should try them…

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