They weren't wrong.
But they also say it's a good sign of your baby's health. So here I am, just past the 10-week mark, still feeling quite green but happy to say it officially: we're going to be parents.
We still have a few weeks to go until trimester No. 2 begins (and hopefully with it, some relief from all the nausea and a stronger sense of security about the baby's well-being), but after Monday's ultrasound, my OB reassured us that all is well. So Monday night, we told our parents and siblings our good news, which means I can now share it here. And apologize for being completely absent for all of June.
The living-room couch has been my best friend for the last month; the kitchen stove, not so much. Poor D has been resorting to microwaved hot dogs as a primary source of protein for work and occasionally dinner. Until just last week, every time he'd light a burner to do more, the cooking smells would overwhelm me. Fortunately, some odors are slightly more tolerable now, so we're creeping back toward more nutritious fare. This is all relative, of course. You're reading the words of someone whose staple foods have been gluten-free shortbread, sunflower-seed butter, and brown-rice pasta since the beginning of summer. Maybe some strawberries too.
Our wedding anniversary fell during a week when I was still fairly averse to much kitchen activity, but I was determined to make something to mark the day. What, given the generally beige trend in the acceptable menu, does one prepare as an appropriate offering for such an occasion?
All of the women in my family adore this dessert, whose original recipe comes from a friend of my mother's who served it to her early in her pregnancy with my youngest sister. It was, as my mother puts it, one of the first things she can remember being able to eat in spite of her morning sickness.
Pie crust is like shortbread, right? I thought, running the flavors through my mind. And strawberries, peaches -- both had that sweet-tart ambrosia thing going on. This could work.
Of course, the original recipe for my mother's beloved pie was not gluten- and dairy-free, so I had to come up with an approximation of it. The one below is more like a tart (i.e., a pie with no top crust), adapted from Flying Apron's Gluten-Free and Vegan Baking Book by Jennifer Katzinger.
Open-faced peach pie
1 1/2 c brown rice flour
1/2 tsp sea salt
1/2 c plus 3 tbsp palm oil shortening
3 tbsp agave nectar
1 to 2 tbsp cold water
4-5 peaches, peeled, pitted, sliced into thin wedges
1 tsp ground cinnamon
3 tbsp tapioca powder
1/3 c agave nectar (can be cut in half to reduce sugar if desired)
1 tbsp lemon juice
To make crust, stir together flour and salt in large bowl. In another bowl, stir shortening with large spoon until softened (should not take long as palm oil does not need refrigeration and will already be at room temperature). Add flour mixture slowly, stirring until incorporated. Add agave and water, mixing until soft dough comes together. If dough is dry, add additional water 1 tbsp at a time until dough is smooth. There is no danger of overmixing since this dough is gluten-free and will not become gummy.
Dust portable work surface, such as a large cutting board, and hands with brown rice flour. Turn out dough onto board and dust with more flour. Roll dough into 11-inch circle (or larger if your pie dish is of greater diameter).
Turn pie plate upside-down on top of dough. Invert board so that pie plate is now beneath the board and crust drops into pie plate. Press dough down, shaping accordingly to fill completely. Fix tears by gently pressing or pinching dough together. Par-bake crust 15 min. at 375 F.
To make filling, combine peaches, cinnamon, and tapioca, tossing gently until peaches are well coated. Add agave and lemon juice and toss a few times more. Place peach slices in very tight concentric rings over crust. Pour any remaining liquid over fruit.
Bake on bottom rack of oven at 375 F until filling is set and peaches completely cooked, about 45 min. Check pie at 25 min. for browning and tent with foil as needed to prevent burning. Cool slightly before slicing.
Makes enough for a week of breakfasts (now my go-to choice for starting a queasy day off