Scene: Bedroom, trying to go to sleep
Me: I’m really worried about the weight I’m gaining. I’m worried I won’t be able to get rid of it all after the baby arrives.
Husband: Well, maybe you should count calories more.
Me: That was not what you were supposed to say.
Husband: I’m sorry.
Me: You were supposed to say that of course I will be able to lose the weight and even if I didn’t you would still love me and find me attractive.
Husband: Of course you will lose the weight and even if you don’t, I’ll still love you and find you attractive.
Me: Too late.
I am now 9 weeks pregnant and I have already gained 10 pounds. Despite finding some ridiculous nutritional recommendations online (which wanted you to substantially increase your intake of all food groups yet somehow not add more than 300 calories to your diet), I ended up adding just 1 serving of fruit, 1 serving of veggies, and one serving of dairy a day to my diet. That really doesn’t seem like enough to have caused me to gain 5 pounds a month. Not only that, but for awhile I had decreased appetite and a bit of nausea so I wasn’t eating much of anything at all, which you would think would lead to me gaining less weight (I usually lose weight when I’m sick).
Now, it turns out I have some mega uterine fibroids that have probably grown as a result of the influx of large amounts of hormones. So maybe that accounts for some of the weight (for real, they’re huge*). I mentioned this to my mother and her response was, “Oh, no, I don’t think so.” Turns out she gained weight right away whenever she was pregnant. She said it was like her metabolism just stopped, it didn’t matter what she did, she gained weight. She gained an average of around 50 pounds each time (she was fortunately only 109 lbs starting out). And she did lose it all every time. Unfortunately, she had a serious eating disorder at the time, so there’s no telling what would have happened if she had actually, I don’t know, ate after she delivered her babies (or didn’t take massive amounts of laxatives). Since I am not keen on developing an eating disorder (I have enough mental health problems, thank you very much), it looks like I’ll have to take the traditional route of diet and exercise.
In addition to causing me some concern about my post-pregnancy self-image, the added weight has caused another problem. Since the extra pounds all collected on my belly (in contrast to where I normally gain weight which is on my butt and thighs), I am actually starting to look pregnant a lot sooner than I expected. So much so that I’m starting to wonder how much longer I can keep it a secret. Originally, we had planned to tell only a handful of people until I was in the 2nd trimester when the risk of miscarriage decreases considerably. I’ve been trying to disguise my growing belly with baggy clothes, but that really can only take you so far. I have a feeling it won’t be long before somebody’s curiosity overcomes their politeness and they ask me about it. In fact, somebody at church has already asked A who replied that she didn’t know and they should ask me (which was a total lie, she did know; that’s an awkward situation to be in, lying to people at church, poor A will have to go to confession about it for sure). At this point, I almost wish it was still a taboo subject, that way I could avoid having to answer the questions of nosy acquaintances, potentially letting them in on the secret before the rest of my family even knows.
So, we’re thinking of telling our families at the end of next week. That’ll be 10 weeks. That’s close enough to second trimester, right? And, I’ve already had an ultrasound and little Emmy (short for embryo) has a heartbeat, so we’re probably in the clear. Right?
*One is 6.3 x 7.2 x 6 cm and another is 3.7 x 3.4 x 2.7 cm. My little embryo, in contrast, is about an inch long. My ob does not seem terribly concerned about the fibroids, though, so I’m trying not to worry about them.