A Story of Meatloaf and Butterscotch Pudding
“What do meatloaf and butterscotch pudding have to do with each other?” you may well be asking yourself. Unless you are me, the answer is most likely, “Nothing.”
The year was 1977 and I was married less than a year, pregnant, and horribly sick. I did not have morning sickness that lasted the usual first 3 months when one is expecting. I had all day and all night, constant, unrelenting nausea and vomiting, which I have since learned was due to something with a weird name that basically means I was highly allergic to being pregnant. Not to my precious daughter, Sara, but to whatever hormones my body was making to keep the pregnancy going. I was a mess.
