Fertilizer for Sprout

The other day, my co-worker stopped by my office with two large bars of dark chocolate.

"Fertilizer for Sprout," he announced, placing the booty on my desk.

Even as my mouth watered, I mounted the weakest of protests. "Really, I couldn't."

But really, I could and I did. Before Sprout, I was a nonchocolately kind of girl. I bypassed brownies for gingersnaps and favored flan over flourless chocolate cake. Piles of Belgian dark chocolate could linger on my desk for weeks, and I might help myself to a few pieces a week.

"You have such self control!" people would coo, their mouths half full of my chocolate treats, crumpled foil candy wrappers in their hands. I would shrug and nonchalantly wipe the potato chip grease from my fingers on the napkin I kept on my knee (I never met a potato chip or french fry I didn't like).

Now, I can't get enough of the stuff. Twix Minis, chocolate cupcakes from Cake Love, Haagen Dazs' black raspberry chip ice cream, Uncle Johnny's gift box of Godiva chocolates; all of it ends up in my mouth.

Pregnant women are notorious for their cravings, but what's really behind it all? The most obvious answer is hormones, which have a powerful effect on a woman's taste and smell. Raw vegetables tasted terribily bitter to me during my first trimester, and even if I'm in a car, I can smell someone smoking two cars away.

"No one really understands what causes cravings," says Chez. "No absolute cause has been scientifically established." ("Food Cravings and What They Mean," BabyCenter.com, accessed 1/21/2007.)

Whatever the reason, my newfound love of sweets only proves that Sprout is very much his/her father's child.