OB Appointment? Check.
Blind nurse armed with needles? Check. *grrrr*
Midwife, whom I've never met, commenting about the amount of weight I've gained, followed by a "Well, I don't know. We really don't WANT you to diet right now..." ? Double check.
Call me crazy, but when I go to see a midwife I somehow picture a sweet woman sympathizing with my plight. empathizing with my emotions. and congratulating me on the amount of weight I've been able to put on.
Apparently I need to rethink my expectations. Because this conversation was today's Reality:
Her: Well, tell me what you ate today. (as of 4pm)
Me: 1/2 piece of toast and grapes. 1 can of tuna with mustard. soup and half of a hotdog with no bread. water and milk.
I actually worried that she would tell me that I hadn't eaten enough. because I knew I hadn't. It was a busy day!
Her response? "Well, that seems fairly reasonable. But I didn't hear any vegetables..."
I've gone round and round this scenario, trying to find someway to make it comical writing material. But honestly, at this point...I'm just not there. Almost, but not quite. ;)
To be 29 weeks pregnant is a mindgame in and of itself. I think every woman who's ever been pregnant...along with her husband...can attest to this.
The fact that I'm putting on weight at such a rapid rate is already enough to make me stand in front of my closet and cry. questioning whether I'll ever be back to normal again.
*These pictures aren't the best, but I needed (for my own sake) to document today's pregnancy look. As well as FINALLY take pregnancy pictures*The fact that I'm 154 lbs. and still growing is enough to make me want to curl into the fetal position. in my comfy cozy sweats that don't grab my growing
But then I remember...I AM growing a baby. I am in my third trimester. I am still wearing regular clothes (size 9/10 pants because I prefer the way they look over some maternity).
Then I remember that this is my seventh pregnancy in a span of 8 years. that I got pregnant with this baby when Alana was only 5 months old. that I still had 15 pounds to lose at the time. and that, technically, I've only gained about 14 lbs thus far.
These are the sentiments that I cling to when the stupid part of my brain tells me that my body is all wrong.
But I've learned to tell it to shut up and move on. totally happy with what my body is doing. how it's growing a healthy baby. and graciously expanding to meet that need.
Until today when Midwife starts asking questions about my diet... and suggesting ways I could alter my choice of foods and possibly add in more exercise. (??????) All because I gained 9lbs since my last appointment (a month ago).
And at the end of our lovely little time together, she told me that I should come back 2 weeks from now instead of a month. I jokingly asked her if coming back in two weeks instead of four was because of the 'fat issue".
To which she said, in all seriousness and obviously NOT catching on that I was kidding, "No, it has nothing to do with the fat issue...You need to come back because of the pressure you're feeling."
Oh, okay. Well since you put it that way.
And my mom's oh-so-gracious response when I told her all of this: "This is where you say..." as she placed her hand on her rear and mouthed the remaining words.
Hmm. Okay Mom, Woman of God that you are, seems like sound advice to me. ;)
