Sunday, March 4, 2012

Another weigh in... wuf.

May I say, this weighing in thing is getting a little embarrassing. It's one thing to talk about the weight you used to weigh as you get lower and lower, it's something entirely different to let people know how big you're getting on the upswing.  However, just like the other areas of painfully honest self disclosure, this process was disclosed thoughtfully and purposefully.  This is what's happening with me now.  This is what loads of folks go through and don't talk about, and this is going to determine my next "starting weight".  So as nasty as it sounds every month, this is gonna keep happening.

At the beginning of my first pregnancy I was approached by a good friend.  She said to me, "You're going to end up weighing over 200 pounds.  Just know that.  Cry a little when you hit that mark, we all do, and then move on with your life."  Of course, I didn't believe her.  Just because SHE had gained that much, didn't mean I would.  In fact, I was pretty well assured that, though I've struggled with my weight my whole life, somehow this would be a magical 9 months wherein I pretty much weighed the same.  I figured I'd gain 15 pounds max, and leave the hospital with an adorable baby and a smaller waistline than the day she had been conceived.  Quick question:  Is it some sort of pregnancy hormone that makes you this delusional, or is it just me?  I'm assuming it's the same hormone that keeps convincing me how much awesome time I'll have during my maternity leave to get loads of stuff done around the house, and neglects to remind me that I won't get a single night's sleep for those 2-3 months after our new member joins the family, and will feel exactly like a physically disabled zombie every single day during that time.

Anyway, in an attempt to add my "no more than 15 pounds" during that first pregnancy I gorged myself, quite regularly in fact, on various kinds of nasty greasy fast foods.  Some days, due to my all day of work followed by school late into the night schedules, I ate out multiple times a day.  And by some days, I'm pretty sure I mean some days out of every week.  Milk shakes, burgers, loads and loads of chicken nuggets, etc etc etc etc.  And I gained around 40 pounds at my pregnancy biggest. Start around 170, reached all the way up to 212, and dropped to around 208-209 the weekend before I gave birth.  Yikes, right?  Especially since I was about 15 pounds overweight when I started, and my doctor would have also liked me to have taken the 15 pound route.  Which he liked to mention every month during my appointment. "Okay... but that's probably about enough weight now..."

This pregnancy though, was different.  I eat at home.  I actually cook.  I eat lots of fruit and more vegetables than before at least, and although I'm not in anyway counting my calories, I don't feel like I'm doing too bad.  Weight gain to date?  About 32 pounds.  I'm right at 180, with just under 2 months left.  I am right on track to gain just about 40 pounds this pregnancy, and almost none of those pounds were directly contributed by Jack in the Box.  Point here is something interesting:  Maybe that's what my body thinks is appropriate.  Of COURSE I'm sure that if I counted calories religiously and had continued running through this pregnancy I could have kept my weight gain closer to the the 25lb mark.  Oh, and yes you heard right, I'm not exercising these days.  It makes me have contractions which hurt for like, 2 hours after.  I assume this is my body saying "Yo, dude, take it easy. I'm busy building this human in here.  Maybe you should take another nap.")  But just the same, despite some pretty radical differences in this pregnancy versus the last, my body wants to gain 40 pounds.  My body does not seem to realize that tiny babies weigh like, 8 pounds.  My body thinks, "wow, people are pretty heavy, and I have to make a whole new one?  We better store up some resources."

Of course though, there's always the bright side:  Again, I have less than 8 weeks left.  Cuz really, how much can you gain in two months?  Don't answer that.  Another, maybe more obvious, bright side:  Getting fat is tres worth it when it means having a rockin' new little baby around here.  Couldn't be more excited for little Kaden's arrival, no matter how chubby the arms are that cuddle him up when he's here.

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