There’s really no other way to describe it. Pregnancy causes me to be HUGE.
Before I got pregnant, I never imagined that a human being could gain weight on their wrists. Or their shins. Or their mid-back. But they can. I am a living testament to that.
The thing that really gets me is that I seem to gain weight at the drop of a hat. I weighed 2 lbs. more at this week’s OB appointment than I did at last week’s. That’s 2 pounds in seven days. And the worst part is that I was sick for half of that and hardly eating. How does a hardly-eating gal manage to gain 2 lbs. in a week? Talk about frustrating.
And, to add insult to injury, I’m fairly certain that all this extra weight is not going to my baby as my sympathetic friends like to tell me. I mean, he’s going to weigh 7 or 8 lbs. max at birth. I’ve already gained double that. And I’m pretty certain that my chubby wrists and backfat are not beneficial to my baby in any way.
The one silver lining to all this is that my daughter broke my scale. She dropped it in a way that tweaked the needle so that it says I weigh 104 pounds. I love that. Given, it’s more than 50 pounds off– which means it’s not even in the ballpark– but I don’t care. It’s kinda nice to weigh 104 pounds. And dream about wearing skinny jeans to show off my cute little figure.
Question: Did you dread the weight gain associated with pregnancy or did you love having the excuse to eat?