The dreaded scale

Frankly, I dread every visit to my obgyn because she weighs me every time I go. It is not that I am unaware that pregnant women gain weight. I fully expected to gain weight.

The problem is that in every, single pregnancy guide, magazine, forum, poster, etc. it is printed somewhere that pregnant women only need 300 extra calories a day and should gain between 25 and 30 pounds for the entire pregnancy. I sailed right on past 30 pounds weeks ago, and I have at least 6 weeks to go.

If you have ever been pregnant, you can vouch for the fact that you would trample kittens to get to whatever food you are craving regardless of how many calories it may contain. I have had food cravings during this pregnancy that I am absolutely certain must rival a heroin addict's craving for heroin. Some random food will sound appealing and a few moments will go by and appealing turns into "I must have it, and I must have it right now." It becomes an obsession. (Like right now, you may think I am focused on writing this blog, but all I'm really thinking about is guacamole.)

I have not craved a particularly balanced diet, and I have gained an astounding amount of weight. So, I have gotten into the habit of going to the doctor's office, being weighed, picking my jaw up off the floor, leaving and crying all the way to work. At my last appointment, my doc informed me that I officially weighed more than 200 pounds. I could not function for the rest of the day. Last October (right before I broke my ankle), I weighed 140 pounds. I had been prancing around in size 8 jeans. I felt so fabulous that I went blond. Well, I gained some weight before I learned I was pregnant, and then I just kept on gaining, and now my size 8 jeans look like Barbie clothes.

Anyway, today was one of my dreaded appointments. More dreaded even than usual because I was supposed to get back the results of my 3 hour gestational diabetes test, and I was certain I had gestational diabetes because I am enormous (and doc said the more enormous you get, the higher your chances of getting GD). Well, not only do I not have gestational diabetes, but I stepped on that scale, and I had lost 2 pounds.

Oh the difference 2 little 'ole pounds can make! I still weigh more than 200 pounds, and my size 8 jeans still look like Barbie clothes, but damn that was a boost for my self-esteem! So, (because I reward myself with food), to celebrate my 2 pound loss, I intend to waddle next door to Chipotle and devour guacamole!