Egads! I had the shock of my life yesterday when, after days of denial, I finally faced the heinous voice of truth: the Scale. And yes, the voice of truth was cruel and honest, sparing no feelings. It appeared that, in 16 weeks of pregnancy, I had gained a whopping 14 pounds! How did this happen, you may ask (as I asked myself repeatedly)? The only conclusion was that, in realising the single antidote to my earth-shattering nausea was indeed food itself, I ate my way through the past four months with unabashed abandon. Of course the foods that sustained me in my pre-pregnancy days like brown rice, chicken breasts, salmon and fresh veggies, now repulsed me to no end. Therefore, the healthy food groups were replaced by not such healthy alternatives like pizza, chips, more chips and cheese. As you see, the GIGANTIC weight gain was no big accident.
So now I have a fatty face, a burgeoning bottom, and an uber-belly that belies my four month status and instead indicates that I am about to go into labour at any moment. Youch, time to do something, my inner voice (that happens to sound a lot like my mother) sternly announced. Time to put the Ruffles away and get myself straight to the gym.
I called the awesome trainer I had turned to in the past, and she agreed to meet with me yesterday to start reconditioning a very weak and doughy body. I asked her if, in the past four months of absolute zero fitness or activity, I had negated the almost year I had put in (until of course it all ended in August with the discovery of number three’s imminent arrival and the subsequent earth-shattering sickness) of hard work at the gym, lifting, running, lunging and squatting. She quietly contemplated my question and then responded oh-so-diplomatically: "Oh, we’ll have you back there in no time." In other words, your twelve months of hard-core gym time have gone down the drain.
No biggie. It’s all in the name of a larger cause, and it’s not like I abandoned they gym for no reason. But, that being said, it’s hard to go back and be at square one. I console myslef with the fact that, if I attempt to get into better shape now, it will be easier to recover post-baby. The alternative to that scenario is something I’m quite familiar with, having gone through no-workout pregnancies twice in past year, and having suffered the dire consequences.
Why is it, I ask myself, that in such an exciting moment of new life growing inside of me, most definitely one of the greatest miracles in my life, am I SO OBSESSED with my weight gain? This curious self-obsession bothers me to no end. Shouldn’t I just be enjoying the moment and taking care of myself with the sole end of providing a healthy womb to my child? Am I so selfish that the thought of fitting into my old jeans consumes my thoughts these days more than the thoughts of baby-powder scented baby things?
I remember gaining about a pound a week for the first 25 weeks of pregnancy, then settling out, then losing a few near the end, so don’t sweat it! We all know that the remedy for preggo nausea is eating, so don’t sweat it. Hopefully you’re past the sick stage now and you can focus on feeding you and your baby healthy things. I remember I was 20 wks preggo and went to see a chiropractor for my sciatica…she says, “you’re 20 weeks, how much weight have you gained?” I sorta shamefacedly said “25 pounds” and she said “Good for you!” I’ve loved her ever since 😉
I love that your inner voice sounds a lot like your mother….I think as moms we can all aspire to being that voice to our kids.
And don’t be so hard on yourself about your weight loss concerns…taking care of yourself is the best thing you can do for you, and your family!
easy answer…because you are a woman…and we all do it! 🙂