I’m going to confess something embarrassing, so let’s keep this between us, okay? At 27 weeks pregnant, I now weigh as much as I did when I gave birth to my first child at 39 1/2 weeks. Unless I magically stop gaining for the next three months, I’m destined to be huge. Already, I can’t see my toes or shave my legs, and I need my husband to use the jaws of life to get me off the couch.
Strangers see my belly and consistently comment, “Any day now!” When I tell them I’m only six months pregnant, their excited expressions shift to a mixture of fear and pity. “Ohhhh. You still have a ways to go.” Yep. And it may not be pretty.
With my first daughter, not only did I gain the perfect recommended amount of weight without even trying, but it was neatly focused up front. “You’re all belly!” said the strangers, and I felt so much pride, as if I’d planned it that way. This time, however, my ass has joined the party. And my face. Either it’s getting rounder or there’s something wrong with my mirror.
I’ve heard this happens with second pregnancies. Certainly, the abdominal muscles are weaker and the belly pops out sooner. But what’s really different for me this time around is how ravenously hungry I am. Sure, I know the whole “eating for two” idea is a myth — most articles say a pregnant lady needs only about 300 daily extra calories to support her growing fetus. I think maybe I’m eating 3,000. All carbs. All the time. What can I say? The baby wants chocolate croissants. At least I am keeping the neighborhood bakery in business.
Perhaps as a result of my enthusiastic appetite, the OB says my baby is measuring about three weeks ahead of her gestational age. I try to look on the bright side — if she comes early, she won’t be as tiny as she might have been. My profound need to devour pumpkin pie for breakfast could actually be protecting my baby. On the other hand, if she goes 40+ weeks, I may break in half delivering her. Stay tuned!
It’s not helping that I’m forbidden from exercising, due to my high risk status. The only calories I burn are when I chew. Just keep chewing. And yes, I know that I should be eating lots of leafy, green vegetables, but they seem vaguely disgusting to me right now. Milk and cookies, I can handle. At least there’s calcium involved. In two weeks, I’ll take my gestational diabetes test, which may bring my sugar spree to a grinding halt. But the damage is already done.
Who has two thumbs and just popped a button on her MATERNITY PANTS? This girl. (Gestures to self.)
Please tell me I’m not alone in tubby town. I’d love to hear your stories.
Photo: Amy Wrubble