A Pregnancy-Related Meltdown

Note the presence of sprinkles here. Its natural.

This article was originally written on November 4th and then passed to my editor (see: HUSBAND). I went into labor the following day, so this never ended up being posted! I have some more good stuff to come, especially about my labor/delivery and postpartum experiences, but I couldn’t leave this little nugget out. Besides, this foreshadows future post-pregnancy woes, you’ll see. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I gave my theory and problem (discussed below) another try after being released from the hospital (the second time, I’ll explain later), and the discrimination against a certain kind of donut continues. My disappointment is eternal. Enjoy. 🙂

From Nov. 4th- I’ve heard and read about a great deal many things that push a pregnant woman over the edge over the past nine months. Stranger’s well-meaning but ultimately insensitive comments, in-laws, cravings, weight gain, complications with high blood pressure and other issues…all of which I have read on pregnancy message boards or threads at some point or another. Something I secretly prided myself on as I read through them (and listened to at mommy preparedness classes) was that I never felt like I was pushed to the edge like other women described. When parents, in-laws, even strangers interacted with me and I was asked the typical redundant and even invasive questions, I felt pleasant and understanding of what seemed to be an interest in something insistently and intrinsically human. I have to admit, I have liked this part of myself amidst my pregnancy.

However, I have recently discovered that I am not exempt from the pushed-to-the-edge feeling after all. It hit me one morning when I found myself having an utter meltdown after bringing the very serious problem to the attention of my husband over breakfast.

It was donuts.

Yes, I said donuts. Or doughnuts, if you prefer.

During the past few weeks, I have wanted donuts. But not just any donuts, my favorite, most wonderful, tasty donuts on earth. I’m talking about frosted, sprinkled, chocolate cake donuts. These are the number one choice of donut for me, with maple bars coming in a rather distant second.

When I first requested donuts, it was a weekend. Sunny, warm, nice. I told my husband and we headed down to a local donut shop- a place that I knew about because some of this establishment’s donuts (a cheesecake donut) were served at a graduation party hosted by a family member months ago. With the memory lingering in my hormonal brain, this seemed like the perfect place to quench this need.

After waiting in line, which was a short line but unnecessarily long due to the lack of staff, I gazed into the glass display case full of yummy pastries of various sorts. I found my chocolate, frosted, cake donut. I remember that I was a bit shaken that it lacked sprinkles –I mean, what else do you do with frosting, which is not coincidentally (intentionally!) a natural adhesive- but I overcame. Pleased and ready to be satisfied by this nagging need, I smiled as my husband ordered up a dozen treats and the box was retrieved and set up to hold my sweets. I asked the clerk for my cake donuts.

I was informed that the one that I saw in the display was all they had.

It felt like I was hit with ice water and set on fire. In that order. If it was the other way around, maybe the ice water would have improved the whole on-fire thing. Maybe I’m over thinking this. I was pretty angry. Either way, I swallowed it completely, through my head was spinning. I’ve never been the type to act rude or take out my dissatisfaction on store staff. But now, my need was getting bigger, and I didn’t have enough to feed the beast.

I had to deal. What else could I do? Perhaps some pregnant women may use their hormones as a (great) excuse to get what they want, maybe even to force my husband to drive me to another donut shop in search for my chocolate, frosted, sprinkled, cake donuts, but I just didn’t want to be that woman. So, we filled the donut box with my one, single cake donut and a bunch of other, less-desirable, second-rate treats.

I was determined to fix this issue next weekend. My husband suggested trying another donut store he knew about, so I had a plan for next weekend.

When the next weekend came around, I was confident that I would have my stash of chocolate cake donuts. We were heading down to another shop, and my anticipation was high.

In we went. Another line in an understaffed store with a gloriously unenthusiastic clerk. Of course, I could care less at this point. I was finally going to stave off this monster that I felt I had done a stellar job in keeping penned up. We ordered the dozen box, the clerk awaiting our donut choices. I spotted my target (again, without sprinkles; what is with this lack of sprinkles?!) and asked for several. At this point, I wanted as many as I could get. Gluttony was not a concern.

She said flatly, “This is the only one.”

I remember a rushing in my ears and my head swimming. I know it must have been clear on my face that what I just heard was not ok. It was certainly not ok. How is this even possible?? Another, completely unrelated donut shop, on a completely different weekend, and the same freaking outcome?? Only one?! WHO MAKES ONLY ONE DONUT, EVER?

Apparently everyone.

Over and over again, wherever I go, donut stores only ever have one, single, chocolate, frosted cake donut. And I can just forget sprinkles. I mean, that’s just asking too much.

This total un-reality has led me to quite the crisis. I’ve needed some actual talking down to prevent myself from believing that the

Apparently this is more of a donut than the cake variety

universe itself is refusing me donuts. I mean, how can it be possible that twice on separate weekends, only one donut that I wanted was available, while there were trays of glazed, maple bars, jelly and cream filled round things, bear claws, etc. ready for the taking? Could it be that when donut shops were preparing for the day, staff arriving early in the morning and preparing the morning’s bounty, there was a list of donuts to make: 6 dozen glazed, 5 dozen maple bars, etc., and next to chocolate, frosted, sprinkled there is written a “1”? No even one dozen but simply, ONE? How does one even make a single donut when they are made in batches?! It was like a special circumstance just for my choice in donuts.

Of course, the other possibility is that chocolate cake donuts are just so very popular that I conveniently find myself at the end of the cake donut rush when I arrive for my share. But this I doubt. My husband says that when he imagines the quintessential “donut”, he envisions a glazed round or a maple bar, you know, one of the yeasted, risen donuts, not the cake variety. I believe him. Besides, the single donut occurrence in multiple locations just seemed too coincidental. Sample size was clearly not a priority in this adventure.

It’s my hormonal mind, or actual reality, that there is a grand conspiracy against chocolate, frosted, sprinkled cake donuts. During my pregnancy, I have asked for very little. I take it easy with cravings in general, have gained the “normal” amount of weight, and have done what I can to not be too demanding on others, like my husband. I’ve just never been the type that seeks to inflict others due to my personal circumstances.

But this is ridiculous. I can’t catch a break for these damn chocolate, frosted, sprinkled cake donuts. They exist as a fantasy.

Now, I am 39 weeks pregnant, knowing full well that any day now I could go into labor and my life will change forever (not to say it hasn’t already). I just wanted my donuts to see me through this change.

I’m still mystified by this.

So, as I sat this past weekend lamenting this insane and unbelievable loss of donuts to my husband, it occurred to me that I was definitely over the edge. Just like so many other pregnant women.

A classic glazed, yeasted donut…which overrides the cake.

Since then, I have thought through my donut problem. I understand now that this issue is actually two-fold. Not only are donut shops making only one chocolate cake donut (and consistently leaving out the sprinkles), but donut shops themselves are in pretty inconvenient locations –at least in my area. I want to visit donut shops when I am out with my husband shopping, but we always find ourselves with groceries in the car that need to be put in the fridge or some other situation that prevents donut investigation. It seems that since donut shops are never situated near grocery stores or other places we typically find ourselves when running daily errands (gas stations and near malls instead), it seems that you would need to make a specific run for donuts rather than just remember to drop by on a whim. If there isn’t a convenient way to look in on a donut shop to research my theory (and get my single donut), I tend let it go or just forget altogether. I mean, I may be a hormonal pregnant lady obsessing over donuts, but I do have other priorities. Either that or my own mind is sabotaging me from getting my fix, too. I’m not sure which one is more likely.

Unfortunately at this rate, the donut mystery won’t be solved pre-baby. That will certainly complicate things further.