Thirty-two weeks. The belly is enormous. I can't see my feet. Bending over is a strategic operation. Getting off the couch requires a plan and sometimes assistance. I am a planet with ankles.
The baby moves constantly. He's running out of room in there, so every movement is visible from the outside — a foot pressing against my belly, an elbow making a bump that travels across my midsection like something from a science fiction movie. Jen watches him move and says, 'That's not a baby. That's a Marine. He's already doing drills.'
Ryan's homecoming leave is confirmed: November 15th. Five weeks. He'll fly from Okinawa to California to North Carolina and land at the Jacksonville airport and I'll be there, belly and all, and he'll see in person what he's only seen in photos for five months.
The nesting instinct is REAL. I cleaned the apartment from top to bottom on Tuesday — scrubbed the bathroom, organized the pantry (again), rearranged the nursery furniture (three times), and then stood in the doorway breathing hard because thirty-two-weeks-pregnant women should not move furniture, and yet here I am, moving furniture like I'm preparing for a presidential visit.
I've been cooking obsessively. The freezer is full. The pantry is stocked. There are three different soups in the fridge. I made Mom's chicken and dumplings yesterday (dumplings: perfect. PERFECT. Not tennis balls, not golf balls — actual, fluffy, cloud-like dumplings that dissolve on the tongue). I made her meatballs and froze a batch. I made banana bread and cornbread and wrapped them for the freezer.
I'm cooking like I'm preparing for a siege, which I am. The siege is a newborn. And the weapons are frozen soup.
Mom called and asked what I'd been making. I listed everything. She was quiet. Then she said, 'Rachel. You sound like me before your sister was born.'
'Is that bad?'
'It's not bad. It's preparation. You're preparing the way I prepared — with food. The kitchen is the thing we can control. When we can't control the deployment or the baby or the timing, we can control what's in the freezer.'
Control. That's the word. The kitchen is control. The cooking is control. When everything else is chaos — the baby, the deployment, the aching back, the inability to see my own feet — the kitchen is the place where ingredients follow instructions and the timer goes off when it's supposed to and the food comes out the way you made it.
Control, disguised as dinner.
Five weeks. The dumplings are perfect. The freezer is full. And Caleb is doing drills.
The dumplings got their own victory lap in my kitchen that week, but the soup that kept showing up in my rotation — the one I made and remade and stacked in containers like a woman preparing for the apocalypse — was this creamy chicken vegetable soup. It’s the kind of recipe my mom would have called “a meal that holds,” and she was right: it freezes beautifully, it reheats without losing anything, and on a November night when Ryan walks through the door exhausted from three flights across the Pacific, a bowl of this will be waiting. The kitchen is control. This soup is proof.
Creamy Chicken Vegetable Soup
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
- 3 stalks celery, chopped
- 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, diced into 1/2-inch cubes
- 1 cup frozen corn
- 1 cup frozen peas
- 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Cook the chicken. Place chicken in a medium saucepan, cover with water or broth, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat and simmer 15–18 minutes until cooked through. Remove, let cool slightly, then shred or chop into bite-sized pieces. Set aside.
- Sauté the aromatics. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt butter with olive oil over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Build the base. Sprinkle flour over the sautéed vegetables and stir to coat. Cook 1–2 minutes to eliminate the raw flour taste. Slowly pour in the chicken broth, stirring constantly to prevent lumps.
- Add vegetables. Add carrots, potatoes, thyme, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer 15 minutes, or until potatoes and carrots are fork-tender.
- Make it creamy. Stir in the milk and heavy cream. Add the shredded chicken, frozen corn, and frozen peas. Return to a gentle simmer over medium heat and cook uncovered for 5–7 minutes until heated through and slightly thickened. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Serve or freeze. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. To freeze, cool completely and store in airtight containers for up to 3 months. Reheat gently on the stovetop over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally; add a splash of broth if needed to loosen.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 133 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.