By Halloween week. The last normal holiday before the pregnancy takes over everything. Chloe wants to be Marie Curie (a SCIENTIST for Halloween — my daughter is going as a SCIENTIST, and I had to Google Marie Curie's outfit, which turns out to be: long dark dress, hair in a bun, and a test tube, which is essentially "fancy librarian with a prop"). Jayden wants to be a firefighter. Obviously. He has been a firefighter for Halloween since he was two. The helmet changes (this year: the dollar store one, upgraded with stickers and duct tape until it looks almost professional). The commitment does not change. The boy is brand-loyal.
My first prenatal appointment was Wednesday. The OB confirmed: pregnant, approximately eight weeks, due date late June 2020. Late June. A summer baby. A baby born into Nashville heat and cicada songs and the long evenings of a Tennessee summer. A baby who will arrive in the season of peaches and watermelon and sweet tea. That feels right. That feels like a baby who belongs in this family — a family that runs on summer cookouts and cast iron skillets and too much food on the table.
The nausea is real now. Morning sickness that doesn't care about the word "morning" — it shows up at noon, at 3 PM, at 7 PM while I'm trying to make dinner. I've been keeping saltines in my scrub pocket at work. A dental hygienist with crackers in her pocket, leaning over patients' open mouths while trying not to throw up. Glamorous. This is the glamorous life of a pregnant single mother in a dental office in Green Hills. Nobody told me this part. Or they told me and I forgot. Or I blocked it out the way you block out the worst parts of childbirth until you're stupid enough to do it again.
Terrence called three times this week. He's telling Gloria this weekend. He's nervous. I said, "Your mama approved me with cornbread. She'll be fine." He said, "My mama approved DATING you. A BABY is different." He's not wrong. There's a difference between "this one can stay" and "this one is having my grandchild." The stakes have escalated. The cornbread may need reinforcements.
I made a big pot of chicken noodle soup because my body wants warm, bland, simple food and chicken noodle soup is the culinary equivalent of a warm blanket and a nap. Homemade, of course — store-bought soup is a betrayal of everything I stand for, even when I'm nauseated. The broth was good. The noodles were good. The chicken was good. The whole thing was GOOD and that's all I'm capable of right now — good. Not great. Not Earline-level. Good. Growing a human is taking all my extra. Good is enough. Good feeds people. Good keeps the lights on. Good is honest.
This is the soup I made that week — the one I’m calling good enough and meaning it as a compliment. Chicken Alphabet Soup felt like the right choice because it’s honest food: a real broth, real chicken, and the kind of noodles that make Jayden and Chloe lean over the pot and start spelling things before it even hits the table. It’s not Earline’s kitchen and it’s not a Sunday production — it’s a Tuesday night with saltines in my pocket and two kids who need feeding and a body that just wants something warm and uncomplicated. That’s what this soup is.
Chicken Alphabet Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded (rotisserie works perfectly)
- 1 1/2 cups dry alphabet pasta
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried parsley
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
- 1 bay leaf
Instructions
- Sweat the vegetables. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5–7 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Build the broth. Pour in the chicken broth and add the bay leaf, thyme, parsley, salt, and pepper. Raise the heat to medium-high and bring to a gentle boil.
- Add chicken and pasta. Stir in the shredded chicken and alphabet pasta. Reduce heat to a steady simmer and cook for 8–10 minutes, until the pasta is tender but not mushy.
- Taste and adjust. Remove the bay leaf. Taste the broth and adjust salt and pepper as needed. If the soup thickens as it sits (alphabet pasta absorbs liquid quickly), add a splash of broth or water to loosen it back up.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and serve warm. Saltines on the side are not optional.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 285 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg