As We Grow

Posted in Monthly, Baby Krise at 8:15 am by Pasha

By Pasha Holiday

I never imagined that I could gain weight like this. Nearly 30 pounds in six months … is that even possible? It is; I am the living, breathing, burgeoning truth.

Truly, when I got pregnant I thought, “I am going to stay tiny, gain 25 pounds and be back to my fighting weight a month or two after delivery.” But it has not quite gone that way. I lost all control over my body sometime, oh, around the point of gestation.

Sure, I could probably diet and count calories, but I have proof that it won’t work. Even during the rare week that I was strict with under 2000 calories, I still gained at least a pound or two! I could cut out my ice cream treat on most nights but then where are my little indulgences? Pregnant women are uncomfortable and under tight restraints. You can take away my raw fish but you will never have my frozen dairy delights! I suppose I could work out six times a week but let’s face it, I am just far too tired. And when I work out my regular four days I still gain. I am beginning to wonder if I should try to shed some of this muscle in loo of some less dense and heavy fat?

So, what the heck do I do with this extra baggage (and no honey, mama is not calling you baggage per say, but you are as heavy as any luggage I have managed!) Thus far, I have dealt with it; shifting through the night from side to side by basically hoisting my belly from left to right. I recreated maternity jeans so they all have the belly panel I love; so that this large belly has some sort of support. My feet are achy but not yet swollen and my back is killing me. But still, I walk!

At seven months, the belly is coming far before the mama. It arrives a full fifteen minutes before I do and has already greeted friends with air kisses and filled customers with the routine questions (when are you due? Boy or girl?) My most loved part of still working (like there is any love left in that relationship! Ha!) is when people say, “Wow you are so big (or little, totally interchangeable with no rhyme or reason) for seven months!” Well thanks, oh expert of pregnant broods! Although when they tell me I look small, I am thankful, although we both know the truth. This belly grew a mind and a life of its own around five months. It isn’t turning back, scaling down in size or proportion. It is just hoping that its best friend, gigantic boobs, will continue the break next speed of growth in which it has blown up!

Midwife appointments might be the worst for me. I actually really enjoy two-thirds of them, it is the first five minutes that I fear the most. At home, in the privacy of my own bedroom, without the world peaking at the scale, I can really pretend that I have not gained so much. After all, I really am “all belly (and boobs,)” as they say and I never look like I weigh as much as I do, pregnant or not. But in the light -filled loft on Ravenswood something else happens; my husband lurks right next to the white scale. The midwife marks the numbers on a chart and while the super skinny assistant never says it, I am sure she is thinking, “This lard ass, I didn’t even gain that much with three kids, total!” I usually fast by only eating fruit before the five pm appointment and then totally splurge on Mexican afterward. Not healthy for the baby, I know. But this kid can give up eight hours of proper feeding for mommy’s five minutes of joy, granted the scale reads any less than five pounds gained in the past months.

For a first time mommy, losing control of your wight and your waist is something that might never become normal. Will it be this hard with baby number two? Sometime around when the scale hit 145 I thought, forget it, who cares? But the lurker in me does. She dreads it. Will my baby weigh 10 pounds and need a bottle of lube, a Dyson and a forklift to get her out?!? Will I have gained so much weight that I have 50 pounds to lose (30 I can handle, 50, now that is rough!) Will I spontaneously explode with so much baby weight that my body bows under it pressure?

At seven months, at 28 pounds of excess, I am still not quite sure what is to become of me. I am still proud of what I see in a full-length mirror; a derriere that is high and tight, a firm (yet oh so full) belly that even has a little pregnant waist and knockers that I have not seen for more than three years! The boobs might be the best of all!!! Maybe it is time to put the scale aside and quit looking every two weeks at the midwife’s office. I just can’t help but think, after I have this kid, all the extra has to go somewhere. And that’s when I panic, my only mild comfort knowing that losing weight is easy compared to what it has been carrying this little one around. I vow to stroller derby my way to a fitter, healthier mommy after the baby arrives. And when baby number two comes, I will once again have my cake and eat it too (with ice cream on top!)