Last night I called my husband in a panic after the uterine pain I was experiencing would not go away. It had started after I ran two miles at the gym and had been playing with the kids in the pool for a couple of hours, which as of late, has been an almost daily occurrence.
But this time, something was very different.
I thought maybe it was because I really had to pee, but even doing that twice did nothing. And I had a feeling that if I could just rest and get my feet up, it might go away.
Except it just so happened to be dinner time.
I reluctantly called the on-call OB at my midwife's office, who gave me the most nonchalant "yeah, whatever" response, which was both somewhat comforting and extremely annoying.
"So, um, how do I know if I should come in?" I asked her.
"Well, if you go into labor and start bleeding," she responded, ushering me off the phone.
After finishing up bedtime, a hot shower, and yet another viewing of the Sex and the City movie, it finally subsided with me laying on my right side and then my stomach.
But not before I had a shed a few tears about my own stupidity and carelessness.
And to be quite honest, my vanity.
I should know better than to lug my kids around the pool for two hours which is probably what did me in. But worse, I should be ashamed at being so completely obsessed with not becoming GIHUGO, the enormous pregnant woman.
Sadly, I know her well.
For my first couple of pregnancies, I didn't care about what I looked like. And while I didn't eat crappy foods the whole time, I ate a lot. And sort of worked out, if at all.
And I gained about 65-70lbs.
With Margot I didn't work out at all and tried to watch my food intake and I still gained 55lbs that turned out to be really hard to lose.
So this time, I really wanted to do better. Gain less. Eat less.
But alas, my desire to be the not-so-large pregnant woman has become a slight obsession. And I go to the gym every day with the hopes that I won't look like my husband's pet giant.
When I gained the weight with Margot, I realized then that I just wasn't one of those people who could wear their same size clothes, just in maternity sizes. I get big all over - my back expands almost instantly, as does my butt. It's just how things are.
But I was really hoping that with my weight loss, and subsequent careful eating and workout schedule, things would be different.
But they're not.
And it's not worth me jeopardizing the health of my baby just so I can fit into those size 8 maternity shorts that are sitting in my drawer.
So after a week of feeling like I'm in that first trimester catatonic sleep haze and the incident last night, I'm taking it easy.
I'm still going to work out, and play with my kids.
But I'm not going to obsess over the scale. Or think about what size I'm wearing.
I'm just a big pregnant girl. And there's nothing wrong with that.