This will not be sad. Yay, not sad posts!
And really not every post about Samson needs to be sad. He’s a good boy, and he is much more than just that one terrible hospital visit.
But anyway. When I was very young I hated bananas. When I ate the ends of them I would vomit, and I remember this happening on its own, but for all I know I was throwing up on purpose because taste wise bananas were my least favorite food, even trumping meatloaf and yakisoba noodles. So when I was out with friends or at school I would claim that I was allergic to bananas. It worked perfectly. People tend to respond to picky eating with “come on, just eat it, you’re being rude”, but they respond to allergies by bending over backwards to accommodate you.
My plan worked so well that I didn’t eat a single banana in any form from about the fourth grade until I was 21. Then my husband was eating bananas one day and I thought, you know what, I’m an adult, tastes change, what the hell? I ate a piece of banana. And the inside of my mouth and throat got so itchy I wanted to turn myself inside out and tear my gullet apart. I ended up learning later that you can develop an allergy at any point in your life, and sometimes lack of contact with a food (like my decade or longer banana fast) can prompt or at least exacerbate this change. I was actually, really, allergic to bananas.
When I got pregnant a lot of things changed, little things mostly. My hip popped out of place, I was ravenously hungry, I could not drink water fast enough to keep up with the dehydration headaches. And one day, out of curiousity, I tried a banana.
Nothing, no reaction. The baby book said this might happen, peoples intolerances and allergies change all the time with pregnancy. But I still wasn’t a fan of the taste so I left it alone for the most part.
Once he was born and had passed I assumed it would go away and I’d be allergic again. And then I went vegan this last week and was ravenously hungry in the store and again thought, “oh, what the hell”.
I’d like to take a moment and say how glad I am that I don’t have any actually serious allergies, because so far in this story there have been three instances of me eating the food I’m allergic to for no other reason than, “I probably won’t die, maybe.”
However, that recklessness was rewarded when, just like before, I had no reaction. I just ate it and was fine. And you know what, it didn’t taste half bad. I bought another and another, and then I went online with my pocket money and bought a blender because if bananas are back on the menu then so are smoothies and vegan ice cream and two-ingredient cookies and you guys! Bananas!
Samson impacted my life in a lot of emotional ways, but I find it so funny and sweet that he impacted me in this physical way as well. Pregnancy is a weird animal, and most of the symptoms and side effects have doctors throwing their hands up and saying, “the uterus is voodoo.” Everything about those six months impacted me including, apparently, my diet. And that is a huge blessing. Samson’s gift to me was bananas. A weird present, but one that I appreciate, and one that I’ll definitely be using going forward. I wonder what the next child will bless me with. Maybe I’ll start liking seafood.