Bear with me as I get into a touchy subject for many a pregnant woman, but particularly for me as a person who started out pregnancy clinically obese and comes from a family where almost everyone can be described that way.
One of the many glorious symptoms that marks the fifth month of pregnancy is an increased appetite. I guess this would be a minimal difference if I had gone from "food? okay, I'll have some at regular intervals so I can nourish my baby" to "hmm, I'm hungry again, I'll have a healthy snack and then eat a normal meal because my body and the baby need it" over a couple of weeks. Instead, I've gone from "I guess I'll eat so I don't get nauseous, but it better have milk or garlic in it, and don't bother with chocolate because I'm 'meh' about it" to full on "I know I ate an hour ago, but my stomach is gurgling and I'll just inhale everything available" kind of hunger.
I'm also really suggestible right now, so watching tv can be dangerous, especially Food Network. It would be really dangerous for me to just throw in the towel and eat anything and everything that appeals to me, because all it takes is a 3-second mention of some food for me to want it, which means I sometimes want foods that just aren't all that good for me (or are really bad for the baby, like Bailey's [note to self, bring mini-bottle of Bailey's to hospital to celebrate with after labor] or sushi).
Luckily, with a full and overboard return of my appetite comes a renewed emphasis on getting the best nutrition I can. I'm back up to the right number on my veggies, and taking time to consider where my shortages are. Last night, for example, I had a mug of warm milk as an evening snack to boost my calcium. Exciting! Occasionally I'm indulging in oh-so-tasty but less-than-nutritious stuff (okay, yesterday I indulged a bit too much because a co-worker brought in some fantastic cookies after I half-joked about her not bringing us goodies anymore), but overall I'm trying to be good.
I want so badly to come out of this gaining exactly the right amount of weight, yet I haven't gotten a scale for at home because I know it's a tough road to take, being constantly obssessed about how much everyone weighs and how you fit into the general pattern and judging everyone's worth by whether they've gained or lost weight lately. Case in point, none of my friends or co-workers have said anything about my weight (other than to encourage me to be careful because they had the hardest time losing weight after the pregnancies in which they gained the most), but a family member brought it up (not to my face, but with my mom and sister). It kind of hurt a bit that someone who I know loves me would make a snide remark, but I know what I need to do and I'm happy with how I'm doing overall. Whether I'll be so happy when I get checked at the doctor's office, we'll see, but I'm not going to torture myself in the meantime because other people are so unhappy with their own weight that they have to judge others to feel justified about their own struggles.
Ahem. Moving on. /rant.
The movements have slowed down a bit but it's still so early that I'm second guessing myself a bit. Plus, it's been just long enough since my last check-in at the midwife's office that I'm starting to get the "what if something is wrong?" jitters. I thought being stressed about when I was ovulating was hard, but this is really tough because it's not just me anymore. It's our baby, a tiny human-in-progress that I'm just beginning to bond with. (I'll take this moment to say that while I understand some people feel life starts the moment the sperm joins the egg, I know this fetus couldn't survive outside my body and still won't be able to for several more weeks. It drives me nuts that because some people think of pregnancy one way, they want to control a woman's body so she must act in a way that's acceptable by their morals. My body, my choice. Period. And that should extend to how I give birth. (See how I brought it back around to the usual subjects. Go me!) /rant again.)
Little One is now large mango sized, so I was wrong before. Whatever. It still was making me want to vomit after the simple act of, you know, EXISTING. or walking. or smelling Old Bay, which makes living in the mid-Atlantic a really crappy place to be pregnant. The all holy books don't have a whole lot to say right now about what Little One is up to, other than the fact that it's coated with vernix, that cheesy looking coating that does....stuff. Yum! Okay, actually it's to protect the sensitive skin from amniotic fluid, but apparently it might still be around by the time I give birth.
Wait, you mean babies don't come out clean and smelling like Johnson & Johnson's baby lotion? I might have to review this whole "where babies come from" thing. And then ask the stork for a refund. Stay tuned for next week. Little One will change from an "it" to he or she!
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