Confronting a pregnant woman’s worst enemy

I had a vision. I was ready, so ready, for the day I would be pregnant. Because I’d be happy about the baby, of course, but also because I couldn’t wait to eat whatever I wanted. Whenever I wanted. For 9 months. You see, Wally’s Bops (read: Grandpa) once said the truest thing I’d ever heard: “Love of food is one of the greatest gifts God gave us.” I heavily subscribe to that philosophy. Even not pregnant, I wake up thinking about what I will be eating for breakfast, lunch, and dinner that day. I remember—in detail—what I ate during each dinner of our wedding week last summer. And don’t even get me started on the best holiday ever invented known to man: Thanksgiving.

Then I got pregnant. My dream of guilt-free eating had finally arrived! And for the first 10 weeks or so, eating was very difficult, since every tasty delicatessen I’d loved and enjoyed just the week before transformed into a smelly, disgusting morsel of badness. Thankfully, that faded. And I loved food again.

I was told by the doc I should gain 30-35 pounds throughout the pregnancy. I got a quick start with 5 pounds in the first month after the nausea passed. Then, in my studying of everything baby, I read that a few pounds might be gained in the first trimester, but most of the weight should come on the second and third mesters. My measly five pounds was just a good head start, I thought. And I ate.

Then, for reasons unknown, I decided to weigh in weekly. I’ve never been a big “scale” person, since my weight has always hovered around the same number as long as I work out. Little did I know I had just made a weekly appointment with my arch enemy.

Every week, the numbers rise. Every week, it makes me cringe, just a little. As odd as it is, I know I should be gaining weight. I know I have a little baby that’s gone from a nugget of a thing to a rutabega, and he needs to eat also. But I just can’t switch that part of my brain off that says reaching a new scale decade is a little bit painful. (I think of Lord of the Rings, where Samwise and Frodo are about to leave the Shire, and Sam says, “If I take one more step, it will be the furthest away from home I’ve ever been.” I think that every time I step on the scale: If I gain one more pound, it will be the heaviest I’ve ever been. And as a side note, I’ve always thought it would be funny if Samwise had continued saying that the rest of their journey, every step, since it would have remained true to the pits of Mordor.)

I don’t know which was the hardest: when I passed up my brother-in-law’s current weight, or when I gained 3 pounds two weeks in a row. For a total of 6 pounds. In 2 weeks. Weightwatchers, help me!

I’ve gained 20 pounds to date. And the baby currently only weighs 2. That fact is very hard to stomach! Ah, but I do know, and will keep reminding myself, it’s okay. It’s healthy. It’s right. I’ll lose some (I hope) the day the baby’s born. And I have heard 9 months up, 9 months down. So a year from now, my original weight may be restored. In the meantime, on to Mordor!

P.S. No telling me I look great in the comments field. I know, I know, it’s good, it’s healthy, blah blah. Wally asked me if I swallowed a basketball the other day. When the jokes stop coming, I’ll know I’m in trouble! Comments field is for fat jokes only, please!

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5 Responses to “Confronting a pregnant woman’s worst enemy”


  1. 1 Megan July 24, 2009 at 8:39 pm

    Don’t fret so much, silly. Small Wall may only weigh 2 pounds, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the weight is you getting fat. You will gain about 2 pounds each of amniotic fluid, placenta, and breast tissue, about 3 pounds each of blood and uterine muscle, and 4 pounds of retained water. Less than 10 of the 30-35 pounds is your fat. I weighed less than I did pre-pregnancy by the time the guys were 2 months old. Keep enjoying your food!

  2. 2 Danielle Mayberry July 24, 2009 at 9:14 pm

    I intend to help add to your weight gain tomorrow with both chocolate chip dip and chicken dip. I’m sure Small Wall will highly enjoy both and have you wanting to take the leftovers home. 🙂

  3. 3 Mary HB July 24, 2009 at 10:30 pm

    I’m following the instructions here, so this comment is for Small Wal:

    Hey! Small Wal! Your momma’s so huge, when she wears a red shirt, people yell out “hey, Kool Aid!”

    Your momma’s so big, when she sits around the house, she sits _around_ the house.

    Your momma’s so large, when she wears a Malcolm X shirt, helicopters try to land on her!

    But I want to encourage her newfound rotundity, so I’d like to remind her that Whippy Dip is one week away and counting… 😀

  4. 4 Coach July 26, 2009 at 8:40 am

    Dear Mols,
    I know your invitation is to put down some fat jokes and I think Mary did a wonderful job but I have learned in my years of accumulated wisdom that the “F” subject is fine for females to be honest about to each other but as a male you can’t be included in that club. Years ago when my wife asked that age old female question “Does my butt look big in this outfit?” and I answered, “No, I thought I was riding behind a bus”, well our relationship just never fully recovered. So I learned my lesson and now I know (Listen up any males reading this) that you must outright lie whenever asked a question of this nature. So Mols, in response to your wonderful blog about laying on a few too many pounds, “No you don’t look like a bus from behind”.

  5. 5 Auntie Liz July 28, 2009 at 11:54 am

    It should be noted that passing up your brother-in-law’s weight is no big fete as he currently weighs the same as most 6th grade boys. He is though trying to keep up with your weight gain, so please, oh please keep gaining weight so my 6th grade husband can be 27 again!


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