I have a book sitting on Kevin's desk about eating well for pregnancy and I'll be honest, I haven't even opened it. After a a first trimester of not being able to touch a chicken breast, let alone think about how to keep 4 servings of anything down, this book has really only been good for making me feel guilty for not opening it. I find myself apologizing all the time to the little cherub inside me for eating a Big Mac instead of my daily broccoli ration...or bringing 3 string cheeses with me to get through a 3 mile morning walk (1 for each mile only seems fair).
I have also convinced myself that the leftover muffin top I had from BEFORE pregnancy is really still there because I am "starting to show". But after standing next to a 7 month pregnant friend yesterday, I admit that the Big Macs haven't been devoting themselves to the baby's growth as much as they have to my own gut.
I am in no way turning over a "new leaf" here as I admit any of this out loud. I am merely allowing a glimpse in through the window of my pregnant reality. We're kind of going our own way at this. So baby, on your 15th week of getting ready for the world, know that so far I have been trying...I have avoided wine and Brie, scowled at smokers passing by, gone to bed early and woke up late...and every time you get a Big Mac thrown your way, it was given to you with love and I imagined it was tofu the whole time.
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