Oh to have my acquired wisdom and be eighteen again. Or at least look eighteen again.
I have been so freaking busy this week. Jeremy’s last swimming lesson is today. I have a regular OB appointment tomorrow morning. I plan to start painting Brianna’s bedroom on Saturday.
Rich has grown an attachment to his computer and I think he might need to have it surgically removed when NFL season is over. You guys (men) might think he has the dream job… and during regular season (non-NFL) I suppose he does. But right now he works 7 days a week from about 9:30 a.m. to 2:00 a.m. taking breaks to eat (in front of the computer except for dinner when he joins the family), go to the bathroom, sleep, and sometimes he’ll take 10-20 minutes to play with the kids which helps him relieve stress and walk away from the computer for a bit. It’s his “breather” and they eat up their daddy time.
For those of you who aren’t aware, he is a software engineer for a fantasy sports website. They do all sports, but his job is the NFL section which produces over a million dollars for them per year. One season produces a mil+. It’s a big deal. And for right now, he is the only person who knows the language to write the site. He gets no help and can’t ask anyone anything b/c they don’t know his language. In December, the company merged and he lost every single person on his team including the CTO (chief technical officer) who is a close friend of his. He’s the only one left. He’s the man behind [company name] million dollar fantasty sports NFL product. Just him. So he’s balls to the wall day in and day out. That’s the name of the game and that’s why he has such negotiating power when it comes to salary and bonus structure. So it definitely has its pros. However, a stressed out, burned out, tired, can’t exercise, can’t do much of what he enjoys for 6 months a year husband is hard to deal with. It’s a good thing he’s so mild mannered. If he were me, we’d be getting a divorce. He internalizes everything and doesn’t take it out on us. We are lucky.
So what does this have to do with eighteen? Well, he works almost eighteen hours a day.
But seriously. Eighteen is all about me.
With my 1st pregnancy I gained 26 pounds total. Most of it in the first and second trimesters. I had little to no weight gain in the third trimester due to gestational diabetes and a strict low glycemic index diet.
With my 2nd pregnancy I gained 27 pounds total. Same reason.
After Jeremy was born I busted my butt and lost 45 pounds. In 10 months. I did the South Beach Diet (which I still believe is the best diet on the face of the planet, if you can handle all the food preparation) and I exercised without fail 4 to 5 days a week. I went from a size 14 (post-baby) to a size 4. I looked awesome! I really and truly did. The picture of my face on here was taken around this time last year. I kept that weight off until I got pregnant in October of last year. I lost that baby, kept the 10 pounds I had gained, added another 3 from depression I guess, and now I’m pregnant again.
And I thought I was looking pretty good this time. I wasn’t overweight when I got pregnant with this baby. Yes, I had gained weight, but there was a perfectly good reason for it. Pregnant, miscarriage, depression. It’s a good reason to gain 13 pounds. Right?
So for some stupid I am a glutton for punishment reason I weighed myself yesterday. I thought I might have gained 8 pounds. Ok maybe 10. Never did I expect that I have gained 18 freaking pounds already. I am just shy of 15 weeks pregnant. How can this be? My scale must be wrong. It must be.
Well I get weighed tomorrow at my doctor’s appointment. Joy. If that scale is the same as my bathroom digital probably doesn’t lie it was so expensive scale then I might just cry. It almost makes me hope for gestational diabetes again so I have a restricted diet. Sure I could do the diet on my own, but when your baby’s life and health depends on you eating right… well, there’s a whole new motivation there that works way better than just eating right alone. And as much as I hate pricking my fingers and testing my blood 4 times a day… well, it will keep me from gaining an absurd amount of weight.
Now I know why everyone keeps telling me I look so good. They’re lying. Because I don’t look good. Should I worry about my weight while I’m pregnant? Maybe not. But I am. Afterall, I am the one who has to take it off after the baby is born and I’m here to tell you losing 45 pounds ain’t easy folks. Especially the last 15 pounds. It’s a constant battle of changing up the exercise routine to keep from plateauing and keeping the glycemic index in my diet way below “normal” and constantly avoiding foods that I would love to eat and parties where there are plenty of foods that I love to eat and holidays which will ruin anyone’s diet. It’s tough.
Anyway, here’s hoping there isn’t another 18 on the way.
How much weight did you
or your wife gain during