Thursday, May 13, 2010


Weight is on everybody's mind regardless of who you are. And there's this floating misnomer out in the universe that if you're lucky enough to get pregnant, you get to forget about weight. Everyone expects you to be fat, so enjoy it! Right?!
I mean sure, you read that one section of the baby book that says you "should have gained 15 pounds by now" and you've really gained 25. Of course, your girlfriend tells you how she only gained 30 throughout her entire pregnancy and your aunts and other female family members stress how difficult weight loss can be after pregnancy if you don't stay on top of it during pregnancy. And sometimes the OB-GYN emphasizes your weight gain with a "Wooow" when you step off the scale. But who's counting, really?

I AM. I'M COUNTING EVERY EFFING POUND, excuse my French abbreviation. I'm walking everyday, I'm constantly strenuously cleaning my house to keep up with this ridiculous nesting hormone, I eat small meals every few hours to keep my blood sugar steady, I incorporate plenty of protein and lots of fiber, I drink 60 oz of water a day, AND I AM STILL 10 pounds further than any baby book ever written says I should be. TEN POUNDS! I don't know if you've ever been 5'0" and 105lbs, but I was, and ten pounds is a LOT of extra weight. I mean, on those weight loss shows, don't they have them wear weights while they walk so their body thinks it's heavier and burns extra calories? I'M WEARING 20 EXTRA POUNDS! How am I not burning more calories?!
I know exactly what you're thinking, "Stop it Erin, you look great." And if you're not thinking that, then shame on you. I'm pregnant and sensitive. But the trouble is that it is virtually impossible to be anyone's version of a normal pregnant woman. There is no normal, which is why there are 50,000 pregnancy books each describing their own versions of normal, and why we end up sitting on the couch watching the Biggest Loser and sobbing uncontrollably about our abnormalities and eating chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and peanuts and Oreo crumbles while our husbands sit helplessly, telling us we're beautiful when we know we look like we should be at the next weigh in and PRAYING we don't fall below the yellow line. I'm really not sure if this weight is going to "fall off" because I choose to "breast feed" or because I was "so small before." I mean, I'll be sure to let you know, but in the mean time I need a shot every time the digital scale adds insult to injury by reminding me that not only have I gained 20 pounds, I've also gained .4 pounds.

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