Sometimes when I go to the doctor and step on the weighing device otherwise known as a scale, I'm kind of shocked. Really? I never imagined I would weigh this much. Not that I considered it much. I mostly ignored the existence of scales. But going to the doctor with unheard of frequency changes things, I guess. At my early prenatal visits, I was asked how much weight I'd like to gain. That was a hard question for me to answer. Do I get to determine that? The "books" say 25-35 pounds of weight gain is healthy for someone who has an average pre-pregnancy weight. So I said I'd like to stick within that range.
After some initial weight loss (go figure) I'm nearing 50 pounds according to my last scuffle with a scale. You'd think I was some sort of emaciated cadaver pre-pregnancy. (By the way, it took me too long to remember the word emaciated. I almost wrote inebriated but then I stopped myself.)
Meh, what do I care? I don't trust scales anyway.
2 hours ago
1 comment:
Ah yes, I remember the blimp feeling all too well. At one of my last visits before F. was born (I believe I was already a week overdue by this point), I made them weigh me twice because I thought the number on the scale the first time couldn't possibly be correct . . . if it was, I had gained 5 pounds in 6 days. It was correct. I remember saying something to the nurse like, "How is that even possible?!" and she just pointed to my cankles and said, "I see it! There it is!" I gained SO much water weight towards the end, but don't worry . . . it'll come right off and you can enjoy once again your emaciated cadaver figure.
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