LOLOLOL at this title.
Prior to actually getting pregnant, I had told myself that I was going to have a “fit pregnancy.” I had pinned what seems like tens of thousands of “pregnancy workouts.” Some were even broken up by trimester! Oh, the convenience.
I was going to eat the healthiest I’d ever eaten. Kale, spinach, organic protein – spare no expense! I was going to pop out an organic, lean, mean fighting machine.
gag me. source
Then, I actually got pregnant.
Anything “healthy” makes me gag. Veggies? Chicken? Lentils? FUCK NO. I can’t, dude. I literally cannot.
Not long ago, I ordered THREE double decker taco supremes at Taco Bell. Double cheeseburger meals from McDonalds give me life. I made a pan of box mix brownies, and asked Cory if he wanted me to make one for him. Because yes, the entire pan I made was just for me.
And because I puke so often, I’ve only gained one pound! (And lost all my muscle definition, but let’s not focus on that part, mmkay?) Oh the joy.
During my first visit with the OB, I was so embarrassed to tell her about my diet. I had such grand plans! But in reality, I’m eating fast food and brownies – foods I enjoyed in moderation (not weekly) in “real life.”
I thought she was going to call and alert CPS or tell me that I was ruining my unborn child’s life, but to my shock and awe she said “At this point, I just need you to eat whatever you can keep down.” I wanted to weep and kiss her at the same time.
This made me think: maybe this is what parenthood is like. Constantly worried that you’re not doing it right, or not good enough, or that someone is going to find out that you haven’t done dishes in two weeks and that you didn’t make your bed.
But as someone dear to me said, “If you’re worried about doing it wrong, you care enough to get it right.” And I think that’s right. I have a subpar veggie intake – it’s not like I’ve picked up a crystal meth habit.
So maybe this hasn’t been the “fit pregnancy” that I planned, but it’s teaching me how to give myself grace and to let go of tight plans. Things are going to happen that I have no control over (terrifying for a Type A like myself) and that’s okay! It’s the ability to roll with the punches that really matters.