Baked Beans

I was famished. I was so incredibly hungry that my stomach felt like it had been flipped inside out. My head hammered with pain as I hunched over the toilet for the third time that morning, retching my stomach out. I realized I needed to eat something or I might just waste away entirely. If I had known three months ago how difficult pregnancy would be, I wouldn’t have wanted to have this baby.

Jaden, sweet husband of mine, knocked gently on the bathroom door when he heard me throwing up again.

“Izzy?” He called, and eased open the door. “Are you ok in here?”

I looked up at him, a thick line of drool hanging off my chin, and clutched the edges of the toilet bowl harder. “Do I look ok?”

He frowned. “Well I know this pregnancy hasn’t been easy for you so far…”

“Morning sickness. Whoever warned me about morning sickness? Certainly not the doctors!” I said before feeling my stomach churn again in my gut.

“Have you eaten breakfast though?” He asked, leaning on the vanity sink and wrinkling his nose at the smell.

“No. I have not eaten breakfast. I did not eat dinner either, or lunch yesterday for that matter!” I knew in my head that Jaden was only trying to sympathize with me but I couldn’t help the raging hormones coursing through my body and blood that felt like it was boiling in my veins. “Could you make me some breakfast?” I asked, more gently this time.

Jaden nodded and backed out of the bathroom.

He came back into the bathroom a few minutes later, a sad sort of look on his face. “We have no breakfast.”

“What do you mean we have no breakfast?” I asked, exasperated.

“I mean we’re out of everything. No eggs, no Pop-Tarts, not even milk.”

“How could we have no breakfast?” I said.

Jaden kneaded his hands together. “Well, my love, we haven’t had much time to go grocery shopping, and your eating habits since you got pregnant…”

I shot him an angry glance, daring him to finish that sentence.

“I just mean we have no food left in the house. Would you like me to go to the store and get you something?” He ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his.

I turned back to face the toilet bowl. The acidic smell of throw-up washed over me. “If you could go to the gas station up the road and get me some breakfast, that would be great. I need to eat something; this baby and I are starving.”

Jaden nodded. “Gas station breakfast it is then.” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head then headed out of the house. I heard our old Honda sputter and jump to life, then back out of the driveway. I hoped that Jaden would hurry up, I didn’t know how much longer I could go without food.

A few minutes passed. Suddenly I heard my cell phone, which was laying in the folds of our fuzzy white bath mat behind me, jump to life and start ringing relentlessly.

“Jaden?” I answered. Oh the effort required to talk on the phone. “Did you get breakfast?”

“Here’s the thing, honey…” He started. “I’m at the gas station but they have no breakfast.’’

I groaned loudly. “Jaden, how could they not have breakfast?”

“They have Beanie-Weenies, do you want those?” He asked.

“I mean no.” I answered. “But I guess if they don’t have breakfast, that’ll be ok.”

“Ok, I’ll be home soon,” He said.

I hung up the phone, tossed it aside and went back to throwing up. Between desperate heaves I could hear the small pitter patter of feet clicking around in the kitchen, and then our dog Peanut appeared in the doorway. Her small brown tail wagged happily as she approached, sniffed me, and cautiously licked my foot. I rubbed her fuzzy little head.

` “Thanks, Peanut,” I smiled. How long had I been sitting on this bathroom floor? Had Jaden remembered to give Peanut her breakfast too?

“Well, at least someone here has breakfast to eat,” I said.

Peanut yapped and ran back out of the bathroom.

It felt like an eternity passed before Jaden finally returned home. He slammed the front door and walked into the bathroom, where I was still sitting on the floor. He handed me a small tin can with a red label that read “Beanie-Weenies”. I peeled back the lid and took a sniff.

“Wait this isn’t… are these baked beans?” I asked.

Jaden nodded. “Yeah, Beanie-Weenies.”

Angrily I tossed the can away from me, spilling beans and small cocktail sausages all over the linoleum.

“Why would I want BAKED BEANS for BREAKFAST?!” I yelled at him. I felt my face go hot and my stomach turned sour again.

“These are Beanie-Weenies though!” Jaden said, taking a step back. “You said you wanted these!”

“Who eats baked beans for breakfast?!” I shouted.

“The English do!” He said, becoming increasingly frustrated with his hormonal hungry wife.

“Do I look like I live in England, Jaden? No one in America eats Beanie-Weenies for breakfast!” Then I began to cry. Great big tears rolled down my cheeks as I heaved and sobbed. I buried my head in my hands. I felt Jaden’s strong arms wrap around me and rub my back gently.

“I’m sorry, love.” He said, faking a British accent. “Shall I get you a spot of tea?”

His little joke made me giggle and stop crying momentarily. “I know where we could go,” I said.

“What?” He asked, unwrapping me from his arms and plopping down on the bathroom rug, avoiding the spreading puddle of greasy sausages and beans.

“Our favorite place to eat breakfast?”

Jaden smiled. “Waffle House it is then. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

With the promise of real food, not baked beans, on the horizon I felt like I could do anything. With Jaden’s help I stood up and we were on our way to the breakfast promised land.