weighty matters

While I'm on a kick of telling everybody more about my pregnancy (and birth) experience than they want to hear, I feel compelled to inform you all that all my weight-management efforts for this pregnancy have gone out the window. After managing to stick pretty well to my plan, and recently hovering for a few weeks at about the same weight (to the point that I actually started worrying that the baby might not be growing enough), I suddenly gained four pounds in a week. That wasn't so great. But the baby seems to have been doing some serious growing, so it's not really grounds for concern. Except that today, two days later, I seem to have gained three more pounds. I didn't even know that was humanly possible. Even allowing for water retention and variation due to shoes and clothing and whatever, I have gained in ten days more weight than I gained in the first 21 weeks of the pregnancy. Yikes. Time to be a wee bit more thoughtful about what I eat.

My other (related) landmark is that I can no longer tie my own shoes. Okay, I can, under duress, but it's really hard. This morning I sat on the couch, attempted to reach my laces, and announced to Cook that "It's happened!" He, poor man, thought I meant that I had gone into labor, and came tearing out into the living room in a panic, much to my puzzlement and Dutch's. I will be wearing slip-on shoes for the next two months.

Otherwise, all is well. I have more energy than I did in weeks 20-30, and feel better overall, in spite of being approximately the size of a baby killer whale* and woefully over-committed and under-rested.

Now I'm done blogging about pregnancy for a little while. I'll try to think of some good themes in weather and politics.


* Usually 300-400 pounds, in case you're wondering.