LYNNABEL's CalorieKing blog
Friday, Sep 9 2005
View LYNNABEL's food & exercise for this day
I had my worst pregnant day today so far. It was profoundly awful. My eyes still ache from crying so much. I don't know if writing about it will serve any good purpose, but I guess I feel like need to.
I woke up after having slept surprisingly well and went for my morning walk with Ripple. She was a bit frustrating with her pulling on the leash, but nothing excessively bad. After making some coffee and coming up stairs to get ready for work (dr.'s appt first) I started to feel pretty uncomfortable - I don't know how best to describe it other than achy and stretched and physically off. I don't really undersatnd how I can stand to get any bigger.
I went to my doctor's appt and as usual hated every moment. I had to see a dr. that I don't usually see. And, guess what the first thing out of her mouth is?! My weight. Again. I barely reined in my temper and told her through clenched teeth that I have repeatedly offered to show my doctor my food diary and excercise schedule, and have never been taken up on the offer. Then, after looking me over, she says - oh, wait, I bet your recent gain (6 lbs, they say, in two weeks - my home scale says I have gained 3 over the past 4 weeks. But try pointing this out and what I hear is that my scale can't be accurate) is due to fluid retention because your ankles are so swollen. This made me furious. For several reasons - 1. take a look at the ankles first before commenting negatively about my weight gain. 2. she made it seem as if I was deliberately causing my ankles to swell. She said that I needed maternity stockings/hose immediately to prevent vericose veins. Then at some point during the exam she said, very patronizinlgy, "You can do this." I imagine she meant to be encouraging, but it only had the effect of making me see red. My internal dialogue was along the lines of "of course I can do this. And what choice do I have? I've done 10x more research than..." and then even my thoughts just trailed off into sheer rage.
I know that about 30% of my frustrations today were "valid" (ie would stand up in a court of public opinion), and 70% were hormonally heightened, but either way there was nothing too small to make me angry: my fat reflection in the mirror, the lack of tissues in the car to absorb my tears, the emails at work, the akwardness with some co workers, the fact that I left my badge in the car, that the two pregnant parking spots are ALWAYS taken, that I am so uncomfortable phsycially - my maternity clothes don't fit well anymore, which means I'm extra huge, I hate our President so very much, etc. etc. etc. Did I say that my maternity clothes don't fit any more. I don't look nice in ANYTHING.
Usually these "episodes" (I hate that word but it is what they are) last a certain amount of time, I cry, and then am able to reach out for and receive comfort from my loved ones and it passes. Today - it lasted all day long. I spent so much energy crying and then trying not to cry in public today I can't believe I'm not completely exhausted. I finally admitted defeat and left work around 3:30 and came home. S was here with a friend, and I laid down for a while. Naturally, given my mood, its disgustingly humid here this weekend, so I'm extra uncomfortable, so I had to lay down in just a t shirt which given my girth makes me feel like beached whale. I have this layer of cellulite ALL. OVER. I realize its normal and there to help me breast feed my baby, but that doesn't make me hate it any less in certain moods.
Maybe I shouldn't be writing this out. I don't know.
I hope I feel better at the cellular level tomorrow - I truly, truly do not want to remember this last part of pregnancy through the lense of stale rage or pain or tears. I don't want to hate or resent my body. I don't want to be feeling the way I do. I don't. One thing I am thankful for, is that in all this anger and frustration, none of it is directly at walnut himself - its as if he is separate from teh experience of being pregnant - that the two are almost unrelated. Isn't that strange? But I like that because then none of the yuckiness touches him.
I've started picturing him with curly dark hair.
I'm too hot to keep writing.
I woke up after having slept surprisingly well and went for my morning walk with Ripple. She was a bit frustrating with her pulling on the leash, but nothing excessively bad. After making some coffee and coming up stairs to get ready for work (dr.'s appt first) I started to feel pretty uncomfortable - I don't know how best to describe it other than achy and stretched and physically off. I don't really undersatnd how I can stand to get any bigger.
I went to my doctor's appt and as usual hated every moment. I had to see a dr. that I don't usually see. And, guess what the first thing out of her mouth is?! My weight. Again. I barely reined in my temper and told her through clenched teeth that I have repeatedly offered to show my doctor my food diary and excercise schedule, and have never been taken up on the offer. Then, after looking me over, she says - oh, wait, I bet your recent gain (6 lbs, they say, in two weeks - my home scale says I have gained 3 over the past 4 weeks. But try pointing this out and what I hear is that my scale can't be accurate) is due to fluid retention because your ankles are so swollen. This made me furious. For several reasons - 1. take a look at the ankles first before commenting negatively about my weight gain. 2. she made it seem as if I was deliberately causing my ankles to swell. She said that I needed maternity stockings/hose immediately to prevent vericose veins. Then at some point during the exam she said, very patronizinlgy, "You can do this." I imagine she meant to be encouraging, but it only had the effect of making me see red. My internal dialogue was along the lines of "of course I can do this. And what choice do I have? I've done 10x more research than..." and then even my thoughts just trailed off into sheer rage.
I know that about 30% of my frustrations today were "valid" (ie would stand up in a court of public opinion), and 70% were hormonally heightened, but either way there was nothing too small to make me angry: my fat reflection in the mirror, the lack of tissues in the car to absorb my tears, the emails at work, the akwardness with some co workers, the fact that I left my badge in the car, that the two pregnant parking spots are ALWAYS taken, that I am so uncomfortable phsycially - my maternity clothes don't fit well anymore, which means I'm extra huge, I hate our President so very much, etc. etc. etc. Did I say that my maternity clothes don't fit any more. I don't look nice in ANYTHING.
Usually these "episodes" (I hate that word but it is what they are) last a certain amount of time, I cry, and then am able to reach out for and receive comfort from my loved ones and it passes. Today - it lasted all day long. I spent so much energy crying and then trying not to cry in public today I can't believe I'm not completely exhausted. I finally admitted defeat and left work around 3:30 and came home. S was here with a friend, and I laid down for a while. Naturally, given my mood, its disgustingly humid here this weekend, so I'm extra uncomfortable, so I had to lay down in just a t shirt which given my girth makes me feel like beached whale. I have this layer of cellulite ALL. OVER. I realize its normal and there to help me breast feed my baby, but that doesn't make me hate it any less in certain moods.
Maybe I shouldn't be writing this out. I don't know.
I hope I feel better at the cellular level tomorrow - I truly, truly do not want to remember this last part of pregnancy through the lense of stale rage or pain or tears. I don't want to hate or resent my body. I don't want to be feeling the way I do. I don't. One thing I am thankful for, is that in all this anger and frustration, none of it is directly at walnut himself - its as if he is separate from teh experience of being pregnant - that the two are almost unrelated. Isn't that strange? But I like that because then none of the yuckiness touches him.
I've started picturing him with curly dark hair.
I'm too hot to keep writing.
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