On Endless Hunger, Part 1

Like a lot of women, I fluctuate in my struggle with eating too much as a normal, non-pregnant person. In non-pregnancy, I have a full, cognitive understanding that maintaining a healthy weight, stamina and muscle tone is essential, and I try to keep the cumulative result of overindulgence at bay through regular exercise and balanced diet. I've worked very hard to to cultivate the discipline required to keep up a decent regimen. For the most part, I've been successful. Even still, the balance has been known to shift towards laziness and non-healthful eating on its own. And then I get back on track. And then comes pregnancy to add its share of boat-rocking.

I was pretty nauseous during the second half of my first trimester, and eating seemed to help. So I ate through it, and ended up gaining a lot of weight in those first couple of months, which was pretty alarming. On top of it, I've read that you're supposed to gain the most weight in the 2nd and 3rd trimesters. But I'm hungry! And doomed! The numbers on the scale keep going up!

Being pregnant is tiring (I recently read that a pregnant woman's body is as active at rest as a person engaging in mountain climbing). Because you're tired, you exercise less. Exercising helps curb appetite. So less activity plus an unchecked appetite results in spiraling lethargy, continuing the pattern. And this isn't just ANY unchecked appetite-- it's this endless hunger that comes and goes, but mostly comes. It has a mind of its own (the control center for which is located in my belly), and it's relentless.

I've had a lot of varying and conflicting thoughts on all of this-- it has always been a struggle, after all-- the fact is, my body gains weight more readily than it loses weight. In my response to that there's resistance and nervousness about being able to get back in shape, particularly in the face of what you read and what society and people ominously tell you. On the other hand there's a resignation and a stubborn unwillingness to beat myself up over something that is natural-- of course I'll lose the weight and regain my previous level of fitness. Ultimately it's the balance I'm after-- the goal of achieving optimal weight gain to support the growing little bean while keeping the excesses in check.

Pregnancy and Parenthood as Abstractions

When I'm sitting at my desk, working, or walking briskly somewhere, I can forget I'm pregnant. When I first wake up in the morning, I'm still somewhat taken aback by the large belly passing by in the mirror. Reminders include the usual suspects-- heartburn, totally forgetting what I was about to say (or do), leg cramps, baby kicks, etc-- but these are all here and now, and merely involve my present self, embodying this new state. The new state, of course, has required adjustment for sure, but not that much more than embarking on a new diet, exercise, or sleeping regimen as a normal course of personal growth would entail. The new state doesn't REALLY foretell the drastic ransacking that my life as I've known it is about to endure.

Making the cognitive leap to being someone's mother has been slow. It comes in gentle waves-- like the recent one in which, as I stood in the middle of our newly empty, former-bedroom-soon-to-be nursery, a vision of my new life flashed before me: the waft of sweet baby smells; hearing a gurgling and happily awake little one; seeing her stand, eventually, against the bars of her crib. What I can't quite do is piece everything together into the whole it soon will be.

But, I will savor living this transition-- enjoy the space between my old life and my new life, and relish this unique perspective, this entire experience, as much as possible.

Things I Miss

There are the obvious things I miss, like a glass of wine or a pint of beer (I know it's okay to drink a glass of wine or beer, and I have zero judgment of others who do so while pregnant, but for me it feels best to abstain entirely. Just a personal thing.).

Missing alcohol is the least of it:

I miss stinky cheese-- like a nice blue cheese or some far-out unpasterized goat cheese concoction from a lovely foreign place.

I miss eating a nice piece of raw fish or several-- like yellowtail or tuna sushi. I really really miss a good deli sandwich. All I want is a turkey and cheese sub with oil and vinegar.

I miss flopping on my stomach for a nap, training kung fu with boundless energy, being able to tie my own shoes AND breathe at the same time, bending over without feeling like a giraffe (you know how they splay their legs all awkwardly? That's my functional but ungraceful strategy), and I miss cuddling without fidgeting.

I miss being able to breathe while I'm laying flat on my back. I miss not feeling protective of my stomach when I'm on a crowded subway. I miss my firm booty and being 25 lbs lighter, not becoming winded from climbing a flight of stairs, and being able to see and/or maintain my own nether-regions.

But! Writing this has made me consider what I love about being pregnant, and as I round the corner to being 6 months pregnant, it might be fun to focus on that a bit.