I'm going to start everyone off with a "duh" today: Every pregnancy is different. Okay? I've put that out there, and it's my disclaimer for this post. I am acknowledging that what worked for you or me might not work for your sister or friend. However, we can take comfort in the fact that SOME things might work for many.

I now have three pregnant friends, who are all a gradation of weeks behind me in their pregnancies, so since I'm the one to run the gauntlet first, I'm the one who answers questions and gives out what advice I can. I like it. I like sharing what I've learned, especially if what I learned can provide even one hour of relief to the expectant.

By nature, I'm a fairly nauseous person. That is, I'm easily nauseated -- cars, cabs, planes, naval gazing, American Idol -- will all do it to me. I've been this way for awhile and so learned early on in life that Dramamine was my friend, my confident, my constant companion.

I had feared that pregnancy might be much worse for me because of this disposition. (Remembering a ten-year-old New Yorker article that talked about pregnant women who have uncontrollable nausea and vomiting to the point of hospitalization didn't help allay my worst fears.)

Happily, I was wrong. Aside from those annoying people, who don't ever get any morning, noon, or night sickness, I don't think my nausea was any worse than what a lot of others experience in 1st trimester.

The most valuable thing I learned was that the nausea was a result of a blood sugar drop -- explaining why it's worse in the morning and therefore given the totally fallacious name of "Morning Sickness" -- so as long as I had enough food in me at all times, I'd be okay. In order to stave off what was for me 24-hour nausea, I had to eat every two hours.

My stomach was a clock. It would even wake me up in the middle of the night to warn me of waves of impending ickiness. I started keeping food next to my bed because, as the books warned, even the mere act of walking to the kitchen was a lot of effort for a body that was working hard to build a baby from scratch.

Ignoring the resulting crumbs, crackers and almonds were my food of choice for middle-of-the-night noshing. Sometimes cookies for a valuable quick sugar kick.

Food

Carr's Table Water Crackers: Bland, bland, bland, but they will line your stomach.

Almonds: I still carry the Diamond resealable bags of these around with me in case of emergency. I learned early on that the rush of protein these nuts gave me was a sure-fire way to get ahead of the nausea.

Apples and Cheddar Cheese: This was pretty much my lunch for seven weeks. Apples have always been a stomach-soother for me and the cheese was that needed protein. The cheese wasn't fancy -- as you might have expected from an old cheesemonger -- it was just bulk, yellow, grocery store cheddar. Comfort food.

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches: Ah, the ultimate in comfort food. Yes, I ate a lot of these in first trimester because I couldn't handle anything else. What is it about grilled cheese sandwiches and why are they so comforting for so many of us? Is it all rooted in childhood? With a lot of psychoanalysis, I'm sure we could get to the bottom of it some day.

Totino's Frozen Pizza: Again, maybe it's going back to childhood and what we all individually define as comfort food, but Totino's was something we always had at birthday parties when I was a kid. Totino's Cheese Pizza was my Thanksgiving turkey this year.

Drink

Gleaning facts from friends and books and the ever-opinionated Internet, I discovered that sour flavors were great for beating off nausea. I also knew from my long relationship with motion sickness that ginger was also a good curative. Plus, it's very important to stay hydrated throughout pregnancy, so get that liquid into yourself any way you can.

San Pellegrino Limonata: Not sweet or sugary, this "lemonade" has sparkling water to soothe the stomach riots and a nice bracing citrus edge to it. I love this stuff and drink it regularly now. With some bruised fresh mint, it makes an easy and refreshing mocktail.

Fever-Tree Ginger Ale: Yes, I love Fever-Tree so much, it even cures my nausea. (Had the newest Fever-Tree flavor, Ginger Beer, been on the market, I would have stocked that in bulk. But that's for another review. It's a doozy of a drink!)

Sparkling Water: The partner to my Carr's Water Crackers in all times of tummy trouble, sparkling water is stalwart and true. During weeks 6-13, I stuck with the flavorless variety even though I normally prefer lemon (and now PAMPLEMOUSSE!) because the less flavor the better for me.

Miscellaneous

These are a few things that I either carried with me in case of a nausea emergency or gulleted to give me a stomach boost when I knew my preferred food might not be immediately gettable.

Ginger Chews: Jen wrote about these a few weeks ago. Before pregnancy, I was exclusively buying the Ginger People chews at Trader Joe's, but then Jen introduced me to the firmer Chimes chews, which don't go all soft and hygroscopic-y in their wrappers, and I was converted. I found my source of Chimes at Andronico's, but still eat Ginger People in a pinch.

Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Cookies and Trader Joe's Vanilla JoeJoe's Cookies: First of all, it's a ginger 3-way with the ginger cookies, so that's fantastic. Second of all, even if I weren't pregnant, I'd be craving these vanilla JoeJoe's. No, they aren't just like Oreos or other sandwich cookies out there. For god's sake, people, they have actual vanilla bean in the cream filling! Highly addictive and a perfect midnight snack.

Preggie Pops: Yes, it seems like a rip-off to buy very special pregnancy candies when you can just rely on lemon drops or Sour Patch Kids, but I was intrigued, so in the interest of research and in the interest of having a full arsenal to combat nausea, I ordered these. They come in sour fruit flavors (lemon, apple, raspberry, tangerine) and herbal (peppermint, ginger, lavender) and you can buy mixed or single flavors of some. My reaction? Not bad. I went through all the fruit first and picked my way around the herbals. They definitely quelled my rising gorge in times of car trouble, so it was money well spent.

It's not a long or balanced list by any means, but I wasn't being a Renaissance eater during weeks 6-13. You really don't care about the lack of dietary variety when you're just praying it will all stay down.

Good luck! Just remember: gag softly and carry a barf bag.

After the bug arrives, I'm fully expecting a dining-out lockdown for awhile. We'll be tired, anxious, and way more comfortable staying at home and noshing on take-out or leftovers than juggling a new baby and a menu. I know others will say that it's the best time to go out, but for me personally? Not so much.

We're not major restaurant rovers anyway, so it's not a huge sacrifice. However, I have been musing over a list of "last ditch dines" for us. Some are brand new and potential favorites-to-be, others are old friends.

Realistically, I don't know how many we'll get to but it's always good to have goals, especially ones as tasty as these, so here you go, 12 Bay Area restaurants we want to hit before our late-June due date.

1. Contigo: Friend and fellow food blogger Brett Emerson opened his anxiously-anticipated Spanish/Catalan restaurant a few months ago. Unfortunately, while the press and other friends have already been lucky enough to partake and swoon over his pork belly bocadillo and homemade potato chips, I haven't made it to the table.

2. Ubuntu: I was already jonesing to try out the Napa restaurant that celebrates the purest flavors of vegetables, but after meeting pastry chef Deanie at a mutual friends' wedding, I was even more excited to make reservations. Among everything else on their menu, the cast-iron cauliflower and anything they think to do with artichokes beckons.

3. Duarte's Tavern: Speaking of artichokes, I've heard that Duarte's is the aritchoke lover's idea of heaven. I've already sampled their ollalieberry pie (purchased from The Milk Pail) and was seduced by a berry I had never tasted before in my life, so things can only go up with a visit to Pescadero and a calamari steak sandwich. Plus, this artichoke lover has to get to heaven somehow. Bonus: "Pescadero" never fails to make me think of Pinky Tuscadero and Happy Days.

4. Lavanda (old favorite): Well, technically we've only been here once for lunch and it was a few years ago, but we were really impressed by the menu. It's pricey, so it would normally be on our "special occasion" list, but I'm keeping it on this pre-baby list. Since we last visited, they've made a bigger deal about their organic and local provisions, and I'm looking forward to trying: grilled skirt steak with Salinas asparagus and spring garlic butter, stuffed risotto fritters, and potato gnocchi with black chanterelles, Hen of the Wood mushrooms, and nepitella.

5. Bar Jules (old favorite): Hands-down, Bar Jules is my favorite lunch spot in San Francisco. The atmosphere is so sunny and chill, it's the perfect place to meet girlfriends for a good, nourishing gabfest. However, their dinners are nothing to sneeze at, either. I especially love their flank steak and la quercia prosciutto with long cooked favas on toast and pecorino sardo.

6. Delfina (old favorite): Since my mother-in-law will be in town, we already have reservations for Mother's Day here, so I am this close to my stomach checking off Delfina's homemade pasta and grilled calamari with impossibly tiny warm beans.

7. SPQR (old favorite): Last time I was here, I was still in the nauseous stage of my pregnancy and couldn't enjoy my fried Brussels sprouts, cacio e pepe, and fried chicken to the fullest. That's a travesty that MUST be corrected! Also, a new travesty that must be avoided: not tasting their griddled Heritage pork spareribs with rosemary and fennel. I do think "griddled" is one of the most sumptuous words in the English language.

8. Flea Street Cafe: Sadly, Jesse Ziff Cool's other Menlo Park establishment -- JZ Cool Eatery -- recently closed in order to open a new place in East Menlo Park, but luckily Cool Cafe at the Stanford Museum and Flea Street Cafe are both still open. I've done Cool Cafe quite a few times and love their sandwiches, but I'm hankering to do a local, seasonal sit-down dinner at Flea Street very soon.

9. Martin's West Pub: It's a new upscale pub from Michael Dotson and it's coming to Redwood City in May. With items on the menu like Scotch Eggs, peat-smoked fries, and nettle-crowdie ravioli with brown butter consommé, morels, and spring onions, things are definitely looking up in suburbia. Oh, and the fact that they also have my favorite pub grub ever in the form of Ploughman's lunch means they were put on this earth for the sole purpose of feeding me.

10. Humphrey Slocombe: I've been scarfing down my pregnancy pounds in the form of all sorts of ice cream -- Haagen-Dazs Five, Foster's Freeze dipped cones, Blizzards -- so I think it's only fair I give this new place a whirl. If not just to roll my tongue over their oft-Tweeted bourbon-cornflake flavor, then to give major pocket props to fellow Are You Being Served? fans.

11. Piccino (old favorite): My husband has been an angel to scoot up to Piccino from the Peninsula whenever I've had a craving for their pizza, and when we met Mr. and Mrs. Piccino at a friend's dinner party, we made no secret of what fanatics we are for their pizzas. They told me I definitely had come up and eat with them when I was close to delivery. Apparently, their constantly changing pizzas have been known to send women into labor.

12. Pasta Moon (old favorite): Every time we go, I swear I'm going to try something new, and every time we go I don't try something new. I simply cannot resist their butternut squash and mascarpone ravioli with brown butter sage and Amaretti. However, because my husband is more enterprising, I know that their pizzas are awesome, their seasonal fritto misto is outstanding (especially when they include thin slices of Meyer lemons), and their Wild Mushroom Ragú with polenta, Marsala, and Parmigiano-Reggiano is totally bathable.

My life of late has been lubricated by tap water, sparkling water, tonic water, juice, tea, and the occasional Coke or root beer. Much in the way I once chased the best cocktails around town, I now track down whatever can slake my thirst minus the buzz.

I've tasted alcohol-free wines and beers. I've dabbled -- with some success -- in making mocktails and sipping sparkling teas. But now? I've found the world's most perfect water.

I give you: Pink Grapefruit Perrier!

Grapefruit is my favorite citrus fruit. It's also my favorite juice, favorite Izze, favorite Fizzy Lizzy, and favorite lip balm, so when I found grapefruit La Croix sparkling water in Minneapolis, it started a deep craving. Since I found it on the official site, I knew that grapefruit Perrier existed, but I never saw it in stores.

I must've been babbling about it a helluva lot, because the other night Mathra came home from Safeway and with great triumph and excitement voila'd six bottles of Pink Grapefruit Perrier. (Zee labelle, eet iz so so Franche and calls eet "Pamplemousse Rosé")

"Ooooh!" I cooed, stroking the metallic pink label, "You found it!"

Is it weird to describe sparkling water as having a bouquet? Because this one totally does. Without verging into grandma's perfume territory, it's fresh and floral and not as fake smelling as the lemon or lime Perrier flavors. Ditto for the taste. The stringent grapefruit is refreshing, not at all cloying, and it's simply...Perrier perfection. It's the the ideal antidote to hauling 20 extra pounds around in 102° heat.

(For the record, I never found any Perrier flavor to smell or taste fake, but after Pamplemousse Rosé entered the picture, a deep disdain for poor lemon and lime was sadly cultivated.)

Safeway had 750 mL bottles on sale 4 for $10.00, and after downing 6 bottles in two days during the April Hellwave of 2009, we went back and cleaned out the rest of their stock.

I hope they take the hint and reorder.

Given the whole pregnancy thing, I've been sourcing non-alcoholic alternatives to my usual alcoholic libations. Cocktails aren't too hard to fake with mocktails, because while you may miss the satisfying bite of the gin or the underlying sweetness of rum, at least you can still make it a tasty drink with high-end mixers, homemade syrups, fresh herbs, and fruit, right?

It's harder when it comes to wine and beer. My findings on near-beer will follow in another post, but first I tried to find a sub-in for my comforting glass of red Italian table wine with dinner. With that goal in mind, I bought a bottle of Ariel Cabernet Sauvignon, and threw in a bottle of Sutter Home's Fre "sparkling wine beverage" for kicks.

Ariel Cabernet Sauvignon
I saddled my plate with wild mushroom ravioli in a homemade chorizo ragu and poured myself a glass of the CaberNOT Fauxvignon. The smell was promising, if a little weak, so I forked up a mouthful of pasta and paired it with the wine.

Yish.

Pros:
1. Having a selection of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Chardonnay (instead of just "red" or "white") was enough to convince me Ariel knew what they were doing. So, kudos on that marketing scheme, Ariel.

2. Personal edification bonus points: I finally taste-experienced the definition of wine "structure." More to the point, I now know what it means when there's such a complete lack of structure that the only thing keeping the wine vertical is the stem of the glass. Call it the Joey Potter of wines.

Cons:
1. If you drank a glass of actual wine, then swirled water around in the same glass to catch all the dregs, and then drank that water, you'd have a very good idea of what Ariel CaberNOT Fauxvignon tastes like.

Fre Sparkling
I was all set to let loose with another scathing name and derogatorily dub this non-alcoholic sample "Shampagne," but it's actually really quite good. While called a "brut," it's actually slightly sweeter than a full alcohol brut would be, but it's not sweet, either. Nor is it too washed out. Also, it has a fine and elegant mousse of bubbles, which makes it even more enjoyable as a champagne stand-in.

It puts me in mind of the heady days of my youth when Ann and Jane and I would traipse down to Milt's Grocery on Lake Street and spend our allowance on bottle after bottle of Catawba juice. After this pleasant surprise, I'd be willing to try the rest of the Fre line.

Navarro Grape Juice
I do like the Navarro grape juices -- made from their Pinot Noir and Gewurtztraminer grapes -- but both offerings tend to be overwhelmingly, cloyingly, throat-chokingly sweet. A splash of tonic water or club soda with a squirt of lemon or lime vastly improves them for me.

I far prefer Navarro's Verjus, because it's way more intense and sour. It's supposed to be used in cooking, I think, but I just chill it and drink it. The Verjus can also be cut with club soda or tonic water if you find the flavors too much for you. Plus, that sort of treatment really stretches the bottle in these financially tight times.

Though findable by the glass in local restaurants -- Zuni and Nopa, for sure -- in order to start your own juice cellar at home, you just might have to force yourself to drive up to the beautiful Anderson Valley and buy yourself a case. (If so, I recommend a night or two at the Sea Rock Inn. Affordable with views of the ocean from cozy cabins and a complimentary split of local wine in your room, this place is a very special retreat.)

Golden Star Sparkling Tea
Even before I was pregnant, I was singing the praises, extolling the virtues, and generally falling all over this sparkling non-alcoholic alternative:

"Let me tell you, I have never met such a beverage. Sparkling ciders -- both grape and apple -- have never been dry enough for me. They're tasty and juicy but that's what they really are: juice. The sweetness that overwhelms these teetotalling options is not found in the limpid depths of a perfectly chilled flute of Golden Star.

The uniquely refined sour flavor in Golden Star comes from the fermentation process, and though you might think the heady florals of jasmine might turn your tipple into Grandmother's eau de cologne, but it really doesn't. It's simply a remarkably balanced glass. It's simply a remarkable drink."

Golden Star Tea is now available at Whole Foods in 750 mL bottles; it was my "champagne" over the holiday season.

Fizzy Lizzy Cranberry Juice
Of all the Fizzy Lizzy juices, the cranberry is the most wine-like. Tart to the point of having an almost fermented-tasting sourness, this has become my preferred tipple of an evening.

Vignette Wine Country Sodas
Effervescent and dry, they're really not bad at all. Vignette offers Pinot Noir, Rose, and Chardonnay. The Chardonnay reminds me of pear cider and is my favorite of the three, thirst-quenching versions.

Sin Vino
Available in "Gold" and "Red," these juices are only so-so. They're overly syrupy, not very complex, and while they might make it into a mocktail, they don't really do it for me in a glass on their own.

So after the last Pregnant Pause post about food making me sick and now with this one being all about not drinking, you're probably asking, "Um, isn't this supposed to be a food blog?" It's a fair point, but I think you'd much rather read stuff like this instead of cooings about the purple unicorniness of pregnancy and how gestating is like sitting on a cloud of cotton candy. (Because it's not, and there are no unicorns, purple or otherwise.)

And even if you did prefer that, well, it's just not me. Well, it's not me now, but who knows what I'll be like after the little parasite is born.

By the by, "parasite" is my husband's word and before you get all pearl-clutchy or child protective services on me you have to understand two things: 1. he's a mathematician and likes to get scientific, and it is scientifically correct to say the baby is a parasite; and 2. the tone of voice he uses when saying "parasite" is very much in the vein of "Awww, the widdle parasite is making you vewy crabby!"

ANYWAY, the day after I found out I was pregnant, I had to fake it. Drinking, that is. We had three pre-planned gauntlets to run: a wine tasting, a wedding, and a birthday bowling party.

What started as a fruitless search for apples in Gold Country (an early frost killed off a lot of the crop earlier in the year) ended in a wine tasting at our friend's favorite local winery. Now all my friends know I adore wine, beer, and cocktails, so not wanting to raise inquisitive eyebrows and questions by opting out of the tasting completely, my husband and I shared our tasting with one another. While he actually tasted, I let the wine slap against my closed lips with nary a breach.

Apparently, we successfully fooled our friend -- she told me months later that she completely believed me when I talked about the "earthy overtones" and "dark berry flavors" in her favorite Barbera -- even though my husband was being way too obvious by staring at my mouth every time I took a "sip." (It's not that he didn't trust me, he was just trying to see how I was doing it.)

A few weeks later, I was at a friend's wedding and faced with a cocktail I created especially for the big day. This time, I upped my unbreachable lips game and added a glass swap with my husband. He'd gulp some of his cocktail, covertly hand me his half-full glass, and take possession of my totally full glass. Dinner was a sit-down affair with two wines. Inch by inch, I slid my full wine glasses toward my husband's plate and grab for his half-drunk glasses. Needless to say, I was the designated driver that night, and again, I fooled everyone.

Finally, at mine and my husband's birthday bowling party at Presidio Bowl -- a place known for its extensive beer menu and me known for my extensive beer love -- I performed the same party tricks but with far fewer opportunities for scrutiny. I just held the beer, put the beer down, walked away from the beer.

As much as I adored beer and wine and cocktails before my pregnancy, none of this faking it was that hard.

Why? Because my system was totally put off by the mere thought of any kind of booze. Later, my system upped the ante by making the smell of alcohol so unbearable that I even had my husband get rid of all leftovers from a Suppenküche dinner. The vinegar in the Salat mit Karotten, Kraut, Kartoffeln, Rote Beete und Kopfsalat smelled like an old German man was breathing on me after having seven beers and three schnapps, and I was having none of it.

It's fascinating how your body protects you.

Next time: are there any palatable non-alcoholic wines out there? I do the research for you.

Let me tell you, it's no picnic being two months pregnant when you edit, write, or read about food for a living.

"Hm, shall I write about what I had for dinner? Because I'm sure the readers will be SO HAPPY to read about the sparkling water and handful of almonds I forced down just to keep from booting this evening."

And forget about trying to research or cook new recipes when just walking in the vicinity of the kitchen rams so many nauseating smells up your nose that you grapple desperately at the box of water crackers you now perpetually carry in your pocket. (Of course, that's only when walking the six feet to the kitchen from the bedroom doesn't make you collapse, panting on a chair after walking three feet.)

When my husband offered to buy me a pair of swimmer's nose plugs to ease my discomfort, my only response was to glare balefully at him and asked if he really needed to eat an apple so loudly at that exact moment.

I also developed a specialized and completely uncontrollable gagging noise. Something would set me off, and if I didn't manage to clamp my mouth shut in time to slightly muffle it, an otherworldly "BLEAURRRGAHHHP!" would issue from my stomach, esophagus, and mouth.

After getting over his initial surprise and concern at their severity and volume, my doting husband started to find my gags fairly hilarious. Especially when one occurred when I was talking and I continued on as if nothing had happened.

I didn't think my friends would find my gags as amusing, so that, combined with the fact that we weren't "telling" yet, had the effect of bringing my social life to a complete standstill. Frankly, I couldn't be trusted to sit in a restaurant or bar and not emit revolting noises while being already completely revolted myself, so that was that.

For the same reason, I sadly pulled out of attending the A16 book signing in Corte Madera because, well, it was a cookbook signing along with what I'm sure was a wonderful food and wine pairing. I didn't need to disturb the peace with my gags over there, either.

To some degree, my work also came to a standstill while I languished on the bed and tried to forget there was ever such a thing as food. Unfortunately, I was deep in a Mixed Vegetables deadline and attempting to skim over references to sushi, soba, and sake, while building a Japanese food glossary was an exercise in some serious mind control. Although, mostly, I just tended to mutter, "LALALALALA! Kibinago LALALALALA! Nai doufu LALAL--BLEAURRRGAHHHP!"

Mind you, I still met all my deadlines, I just didn't work with excitement, joy, or an appetite.

Meanwhile, for all my whining about my career hardships, how the hell pregnant professional chefs or cooks manage to keep doing their jobs during these trying weeks is beyond me. I mean, forced to be around actual food all the time? BLEAURRRGAHHHP! Personally, I think food professionals should either get hazard pay or some sort of extra maternity leave in the first trimester.

Luckily, I'm now well into my second trimester and have left the Chronicles of Nausea behind, so I'm back in the food saddle again and raring to write about non-alcoholic wine, beer, and mocktails. Stay tuned.