Now that you know I'm pregnant, I can tell you about my prenatal vitamin adventures.
Before I got pregnant, I started taking chewable prenatal vitamins that I bought at Target. They were delicious and had all the nutrients that Baby would need. Most importantly, they were chewable.
I hate big horse pills. Always have, always will. I'm sure my parents could share some stories here about trying to get me to take my medicine as a kid. I would gag on my pills and beg for medicine in liquid form ... while my traitor brother could swallow not one but two Tylenol at the same time without water.
Once I was pregnant, my doctor said I could continue taking the chewable prenatal vitamins through the first trimester. Then, I had to switch to a prescription vitamin. She gave me a ton of different samples to audition.
The samples were all big evil mega-sized pills, but for Baby's sake, I bravely sampled them all and chose the least offensive of the bunch. My doctor sent my prescription to my drugstore, and I went to pick up my new regimen of vitamins.
The pharmacy filled my prescription with a generic brand. Ordinarily, I am not fussy about generics. In fact, I embrace generic prescriptions because it's the same freaking thing for a fraction of the cost.
I took my generic prenatal vitamins home, opened the bottle ... and nearly puked. Of course, at the time, I was still living with a constant feeling of nausea. That very morning, Nathan had said, "Do you want to get bagels?" and I said, "Yes, I just need to go puke first." (True story.) But this urge to puke was something very different and had nothing to do with my hormone levels.
I nearly puked upon opening the bottle because the generic prenatal vitamins smelled like monkey butt.
I don't actually know what monkey butt smells like, but I don't know how else to describe the foul odor that assaulted my poor nose. Let's just say it was an evil vegetal animal stench that no one should ever have to smell. I would not wish these vitamins on the devil.
But I told myself to stop overreacting and forced myself to swallow a vitamin.
Things went downhill from there.
I touched the vitamin with my right hand, and I could not get the foul smell off my fingers for the rest of the day. I scrubbed and washed my hands, took a shower, and smothered my fingers with heavily scented lotions. No dice. I was like Lady Macbeth: Out, out, damn smell! But my right hand would not stop smelling like monkey butt. I could not keep my hand far enough away from my nose. I swear, the house plants wilted when I walked by.
The smell also haunted me whenever I burped. (Yes, okay, I'm pregnant and sometimes a pregnant lady needs to burp. Get over it.) I normally embrace my burps because they help release pressure in my abdomen, which is crowded enough these days with my growing uterus. But after I took the monkey butt vitamin, my burps tasted like monkey butt. All day. Every time I felt a burp rising, I wanted to cry.
I gave myself numerous pep talks. You can do this! You can handle these prenatal vitamins! You will get used to the monkey butt smell!
Two hours after I first swallowed the monkey butt vitamin, my spirit broke. I could not do it. No matter how much I love Baby, I could not stomach the monkey butt vitamins. I called my doctor's office and begged them to change my prescription to the name brand vitamin I had sampled.
My doctor's office obliged. The monkey butt vitamins only cost $20/month and the brand name cost $30/month, but I am happy to pay a $10 premium for stenchless vitamins. Hell, I'd be happy to give the pharmacy one of my toes to guarantee I never again have to touch or smell one of those evil generic vitamins.
I still have the monkey butt vitamins in our medicine cabinet. They might come in handy some day. For example, in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse, they can be used as chemical weapons against the Undead. Also, when my brother gets home from the Peace Corps, I'm going to dare him to swallow two at the same time without water.
