I Know Why the Caged Fat Lady Sings
All my life, I dreamed of the day I would become pregnant - for no other reason than it would give me an excuse to lay around eating whole pies. Even before I was aware of what a calorie was or what it does to you, I fantasized about this magical time in a woman's life when she is allowed to be unabashedly fat and lazy. Sure, maybe I would have to learn knitting between the bon bon eating and soap opera watching. But I'd only have to go so far as making half a bootie, women in the movies never finished a complete pair.
It turns out that this is a vicious lie, and I am finding out far too late. When I first learned I was pregnant, we were about to fly to London for a long weekend. While there I indulged in big English breakfasts, bisquits and cakes and toffees, weird meat and beer pies, fish and chips and mushy peas and etc. I was utterly free: on vacation and with child. That's like a ticket to a dreamy all-you-can-eat buffett. It was bliss - well, near bliss, considering it was British food.
We arrived home to a package from my mom. In it were books on babies, including "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Has anyone read this evil thing? The first page of this book should read: "If you were expecting to get fat and lazy, you were sorely mistaken."
This book assumes you are either a.) a freaky health nut who just needs to step it up by 300 calories a day or b.) someone who can suddenly become a freaky health nut, incorporating like 7 servings of grains, 5 servings of milk, 6-8 fruits and vegetables and tons of proteins into your diet while still limiting your intake to what your average health nut would eat, plus a measly 300 calories a day. In other words, no craving pickle and pudding sandwiches. The book actually points out that 300 calories a day amounts to "an apple, a banana and a cup of whole milk." How depressing is that? Have we all become these weight-obsessed, "perfect little bump" weirdos who diet while pregnant?
And there are so many restrictions. I'm fine with cutting out booze and coffee, even though I miss them once in awhile. But on top of that, you can't have cold cuts, or cured meats or fish, or sushi, or blue/goat/feta cheese, or cookie dough, and you really shouldn't have fish, or aspertame, or SUGAR.
I don't want McDonalds or Pizza Hut or whole banana cream pies but, please, sir, may I have a chocolate chip cookie now and then? Can I eat healthy but fattening Soy Delicious Peanut Butter Zigzag once in awhile with impunity? "No!" says WTEWYE. I'm sorry, but I consider that strict dieting. I prefer my doctor's advice: You only live once, so if it's macaroni and cheese that does it for you, go for it.
I'm sort of sticking between the two extremes. I try to eat as well as I can, but also indulge in snacks and cravings. Mostly I crave protein: I'm eating lots of beef, which I never really ate before, and always have a taste for sauteed spinach and raisin bran with milk. I was daydreaming of Girl Scout cookies, but when Herr Guitar brought some home for me, they were too sugary. I actually did the unthinkable: threw away nearly full boxes of Thin Mints, Samoas and Tagalongs.
Still, I can quickly demolish a stack of pancakes from the Brownstone Diner in Jersey City, or a giant M&M cookie from Starbucks on Christopher Street, or a chocolate peanut butter cookie mound from Levain Bakery on West 74th. Maybe that's why I'm only three months along and already showing? (Note to the reed-thin, no-belly girl at Roosevelt Hospital with the same due date: Fuck you.)
Oh well, what am I going to do? I can't diet, can hardly move to exercise. And it's only going to get worse. There will be hell to pay after the birth, and I'll worry about it then. My mom has never taken off the weight she had after giving birth to my brother, in fact she's added to it quite a bit. But she was 24, I'm almost 10 years older than that. I think the body shape I have, which is politely described as far from Nicole Kidman-esque, will be easily revived. Until then, I'll say it once, and say it loud: I'm fat... ahem, pregnant... and I'm proud.
It turns out that this is a vicious lie, and I am finding out far too late. When I first learned I was pregnant, we were about to fly to London for a long weekend. While there I indulged in big English breakfasts, bisquits and cakes and toffees, weird meat and beer pies, fish and chips and mushy peas and etc. I was utterly free: on vacation and with child. That's like a ticket to a dreamy all-you-can-eat buffett. It was bliss - well, near bliss, considering it was British food.
We arrived home to a package from my mom. In it were books on babies, including "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Has anyone read this evil thing? The first page of this book should read: "If you were expecting to get fat and lazy, you were sorely mistaken."
This book assumes you are either a.) a freaky health nut who just needs to step it up by 300 calories a day or b.) someone who can suddenly become a freaky health nut, incorporating like 7 servings of grains, 5 servings of milk, 6-8 fruits and vegetables and tons of proteins into your diet while still limiting your intake to what your average health nut would eat, plus a measly 300 calories a day. In other words, no craving pickle and pudding sandwiches. The book actually points out that 300 calories a day amounts to "an apple, a banana and a cup of whole milk." How depressing is that? Have we all become these weight-obsessed, "perfect little bump" weirdos who diet while pregnant?
And there are so many restrictions. I'm fine with cutting out booze and coffee, even though I miss them once in awhile. But on top of that, you can't have cold cuts, or cured meats or fish, or sushi, or blue/goat/feta cheese, or cookie dough, and you really shouldn't have fish, or aspertame, or SUGAR.
I don't want McDonalds or Pizza Hut or whole banana cream pies but, please, sir, may I have a chocolate chip cookie now and then? Can I eat healthy but fattening Soy Delicious Peanut Butter Zigzag once in awhile with impunity? "No!" says WTEWYE. I'm sorry, but I consider that strict dieting. I prefer my doctor's advice: You only live once, so if it's macaroni and cheese that does it for you, go for it.
I'm sort of sticking between the two extremes. I try to eat as well as I can, but also indulge in snacks and cravings. Mostly I crave protein: I'm eating lots of beef, which I never really ate before, and always have a taste for sauteed spinach and raisin bran with milk. I was daydreaming of Girl Scout cookies, but when Herr Guitar brought some home for me, they were too sugary. I actually did the unthinkable: threw away nearly full boxes of Thin Mints, Samoas and Tagalongs.
Still, I can quickly demolish a stack of pancakes from the Brownstone Diner in Jersey City, or a giant M&M cookie from Starbucks on Christopher Street, or a chocolate peanut butter cookie mound from Levain Bakery on West 74th. Maybe that's why I'm only three months along and already showing? (Note to the reed-thin, no-belly girl at Roosevelt Hospital with the same due date: Fuck you.)
Oh well, what am I going to do? I can't diet, can hardly move to exercise. And it's only going to get worse. There will be hell to pay after the birth, and I'll worry about it then. My mom has never taken off the weight she had after giving birth to my brother, in fact she's added to it quite a bit. But she was 24, I'm almost 10 years older than that. I think the body shape I have, which is politely described as far from Nicole Kidman-esque, will be easily revived. Until then, I'll say it once, and say it loud: I'm fat... ahem, pregnant... and I'm proud.
posted by j.m. at 4:18 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home