Let's talk about the dirty little secret amongst us belly guardians, that as we shepherd the belly through the maze of ups and downs, the ins and outs, the good, the bad, and the truly frightening; we are slowly trapped into the cycle of food. I have spent many hours in the preparation, pursuit, and delivery of food. What I didn't realize is that I would also begin to grow my waistline. I mean how do you constantly make sure there is something good to eat and then order a salad? Look at me now, it's almost 10 o'clock and what am I doing? Making turtle brownies. And will I eat them? Oh yeah baby! Do I need to eat them? Oh no baby! (by the way I'm sitting here in my sweatshirt and under a blankie even though it was 92 degrees today- the belly must be kept well chilled)
Empathy is a strong emotion, my concern for the belly is doing terrible things to my girlish figure. But how can I stop? I've tried serving vegetables, lean meats, and low fat treats. How does the belly receive these caring, thoughtful gestures? Let's just say the belly is less than pleased. Make some grilled chicken? First question from the belly is "where's the freakin' gravy, dude?". And I have learned if it ain't gotz gravy, it better have some butter and cheese instead. I apologize in advance to all the cows that will grow their udders in order to provide the creamy dairy products. Hey, at this point it's all about survival, and if it's me or a cow, all I can say is "bossie, you got your work cut out for you".
We are now in the phase which the instruction books have told us(damn them all to hell) that the baby will be doubling in size over the next four weeks. Good news for the belly is, "the baby is doubling in size" has replaced "I lost a pound" which replaced "I'm eating for two" which replaced "get outta my face I'm hungry". The trend, i fear is: keep the food coming bub, and don't stop 'till I tell you to.
On to some more mundane matters. At this point we went in for the glucose test. I'm not real clear on what that is, but all I know is I had to go to doc 'o babe and watch the belly drink a cup of flat orange drink, and then.....wait...a....long....ass....time. Then he put a tape measure on the belly and said "thank you very much, see you in a month". Clearly he doesn't get it. The belly needs something much more tangible. Like a report or a readout from a machine that goes beep, beep, beep. We di hear from the bastard stick, but by now we no longer fear it, in all it's staticy noise. We own you, you sorry piece of Doppler technology!
So we venture on into bellyhood, watching the big build happen and begin the dreaded next step, picking a name for the critter. More on that later......
No comments:
Post a Comment