I have just had one of the worst days I’ve had in a really, really long time. In fact, I’m actually laying in bed sobbing as I type. I thought maybe I’d feel better if I told the whole Internet my problems. I don’t know why. Anyway, before you panic, I should say that no one has died, been diagnosed with a disease, been injured or even had a cramp (That I know of. It is kind of doubtful that anyone would alert me if they had a cramp, I guess.) No, my problem is nothing so terrible, even though it really does feel bad.
Here’s how my doctors appointment went today:
Me: “How much weight have I gained?”
Nurse: “Do you promise not to freak out if I tell you?”
(Obviously, nothing more needed to be said after this but for some reason we carried on.)
Me: “No. How much?”
Nurse: “Well, it really doesn’t matter. You’re beautiful! Isn’t she beautiful (to Spencer)?”
Me: “Thanks, but yes, it does matter. I need to know if it’s too much. Is it too much? I don’t know how much is okay.”
Nurse: “Alright, but really don’t worry about it. Sometimes you gain a lot in the beginning and then it evens out. Okay, now remember, you’re beautiful. Don’t freak out.”
And then she told me. And I freaked out. But only inside my head. The thing is, I have a scale so I already knew that I had gained 18lbs since my first visit. The bad part is that about 15 of it has been within about six weeks or so. I just didn’t realize that was enough to make a nurse basically have a panic attack when she had to break the news to me.
I’m humiliated. I’m embarrassed because it seems like I must just sit on the couch and eat Cheetos all day. The nurse even said “Just try to take a walk now and then.” Seriously? Because I’ve been getting up at 5:30am to workout. Not walk. Workout. No, not every day because sometimes I’m just exhausted. And no, I haven’t eaten perfectly but honestly, I don’t eat any more than I always do.
I just can’t stand this pressure of constantly having to bust my butt and analyze each bite that goes in my mouth. You would think with as much as I worry about my weight, I would get to be skinny once in my life. I was so scared to get pregnant because I knew this would happen. I knew it would just be out of control and I’d get fat again.
I did not, however, realize that once again seeing the number on the scale I saw three years ago when I started trying to lose weight would destroy me like this. All I can think about is how hard I worked- I worked SO hard
– and how it’s going to be even harder this time to get it off and I don’t know how long it will take and I’m terrified.
And I’m sorry that I’m a jerk because I have a healthy baby inside me but I’m worried that everyone thinks I’m fat. Especially Spencer.
I just wish the nurse wouldn’t have had a melt down and I wish my Dr. wasn’t busy with an emergency c-section and he could have calmly told me what to do.
I know it’s fine and all I can do is try to be healthy and never drink a Coke or eat anything that tastes good again. It’s just so hard. And so unfair. And I guess that’s just life.
I’ll let you know how the next appointment goes. The plan is to not gain one ounce by that appointment and actually, if I lost some water weight between now and then that would really help.
It would also help if everyone could just feel sorry for me and say a prayer for my fat butt.