I started this pregnancy with the best of intentions. I was going to be that mom—smoothies for breakfast, colorful salads for lunch, quinoa something for dinner. I had a Pinterest board. I had a plan.

Then the nausea hit like a truckkkkkkkkk.

Now I’m surviving off ginger ale, lemon Italian ices, Colby Jack cheese, peppermints, and McDonald’s french fries. Sometimes all in one sitting. It’s not glamorous, and it’s definitely not the rainbow of nutrients I envisioned. But it’s what I can eat. And that has to be enough.

I’m reminding myself this is just a phase. A weird, queasy, carb-filled chapter of pregnancy where my body is calling the shots. I know I’ll get back to leafy greens and balanced meals eventually. But right now? Survival is the goal.

I’m giving myself grace. Letting go of the pressure. Trusting that my body knows what it’s doing—even if what it wants right now is mostly salt and cheese.

This too shall pass. And until it does, I’m keeping the fries.