So I guess this being pregnant thing requires more thought than I imagined. Take camping, for example. It didn't occur to me until the polish dog was browning on the skewer that I'm not supposed to eat nitrates. I'm not sure why, or how I even know this, but I remember Rachel saying something anti-deli-meat when she was pregnant. And Alex, my ever-loving-carnivorous-husband, bought hot dogs for dinner and bacon for breakfast.
I definitely don't want to be one of those women who obsess over every little things I expose myself, and my baby, to. But I also definitely don't want to be one of those women whose baby has a birth defect because she ate a hot dog while camping.
And then there's the bug spray. And the sun screen. And the campfire smoke. And the water from unmarked spigots. And the bacon. What's a bfast in the woods without a little pork cooked over the fire? Is it even worth it?
Sad face, holding the hot dogs I wasn't allowed to enjoy.
No comments:
Post a Comment