However, I was so accustomed to what it took to carry triplets, this transition to carrying *only* one baby has been a big, fat challenge for me, on the dietary front.
When I was pregnant last time ... I was instructed to maintain a diet of 4,000 calories a day. It wasn't uncommon that I would put away a 1/2 gallon of ice cream, by myself, in two nights. Rather - it was uncommon if I didn't put away a 1/2 gallon of ice cream, by myself, in two nights. Because I highly doubt that the 21 pounds I've packed on in the past 18 weeks is entirely due to fluid retention (that was my initial thought) ... and considering the baby only weighs 3/4 of a pound ... there is no question my insatiable appetite is to blame.
Such a pity. I'm so very good at eating large quantities of food.
Since my doctor's appointment on Thursday, I started paying close attention to what I eat.
Pregnant or not ... it isn't a pretty sight.
Friday morning, I decided to change my lifestyle and eating habits. To start things off right, I was going to take the children on an outing, by myself. I packed a picnic lunch with PB&J and cheese sticks for the kids ... a granola bar and celery sticks for me, loaded them in the car and drove to the San Diego Zoo. I put two kids in the double stroller and took turns with the third child who was free to walk, or hang on my leg, whichever they prefer.
After four hours, we had covered at least 3-miles of steep terrain. I'm certain that I burned over 5,000 calories between pushing two kids in a stroller up steep hills and carrying a third child, most of the way, on my hip.
And, chasing and grabbing them before they fell in to the antelope enclosure.
And, jockeying the bulky double stroller full of secure toddlers, and a roaming unsecure toddler into a handicap restroom stall and desperately trying to keep those kids from touching every germ infested object while I did what needed to be done - on four separate occassions while at the zoo - because Baby D has deflated my bladder.
Even more calories were burned as I scorned the profusion of pregnant women, cruising around in velour jumpsuits, that looked like they just stepped off a model shoot. Protruding bellies were everywhere.
I noticed more pregnant women on Friday, than I ever did when I was struggling with infertility (which was all the time). But these pregnant women on Friday looked like none I had ever seen before. Their bodies resembled a toothpick with an olive strategically placed, mid-way down. They were absolutely perfectly proportioned from their hands to their feet. And - they all had tans. Every single last one of them.
I was ashamed. And inspired.
After I was fully drenched in sweat and unable to breathe, we drove to Costco, grabbed a nice shady parking spot, and all four of us took a power nap in the car. When we woke up, I loaded everyone in the grocery cart and completed a week worth of healthy shopping. Fresh salmon, lean meats, loads of fresh veggies and fruit, whole grain breads, raisins, nuts and yogurt. Around that time, the little voice in my head that was chanting "You, too can be a red hot pregnant mama!" Was drowned out by a more familiar voice that was shouting "CRAZY LADY, YOU NEED TO EAT, RIGHT NOW!!!"
Sadly for my figure, my energy levels bonked and I lost the momentum to go home - unload the groceries - and prepare a organic basil chicken spinach salad, like I had planned.
Instead, I manuevered my cart to the food court and bought the largest chocolate frozen yogurt they had for sale. While I ate this larger than life chocolate frozen yogurt, I pondered why in the name of peanut butter, I would subject myself to walking for 3-miles, up huge hills, at the world's largest zoo, while pushing a stroller with two toddlers and carrying a third ... with nothing more than celery sticks and a revolting granola bar to eat. When I'm pregnant.
(At least it was frozen yogurt and not ice cream. Of course I would have elected for ice cream - had that been an option.)
Tomorrow, I'm leaving for a one-week business trip while Charlie stays home, flying solo with the kids. This time, I will remember to pack my shoes. But, considering my maternity wardbrobe is limited to a pair of pajamas that Alex and Kathleen bought me for Christmas, I'm at a loss for what else will go in my suitcase. (This is a strangely familiar, antithesis, to the dilemma I faced last year.)
I can guarantee I won't look like this ...
Although, I'm thinking this isn't too bad of a look...