Pure pregnancy post ahead. Feel free to skip if you’re not in the mood or the place for this.
The only reason why we have a bathroom scale is to avoid excess baggage fees at the airport. I was a chubby teenager and decided sometime in college that too much was too much, started to exercise and eat healthier / actually stop when I’m full, and lost 10kg*, most of them permanently. And I decided not to fret about weight during pregnancy.
Yet for some reason (data collection?) I felt inclined to step on the scales sometime in week 5 — and was surprised to see that I lost 2kg from what I thought my pre-pregnancy weight was. Might have to do with being hungry all the time. (The nausea, fortunately, isn’t bad enough to cause weight loss, for all I can say.) A week later I had lost another 2kg. Huh. I began to deliberately eat more, and last week went 3kg up, so at least we’re moving in the right direction now. All the while I haven’t fit into my tight pants. And yesterday a colleague asked if I’d lost weight. Um, well…
My boobs have started to grow a little. For someone starting out with an F (DDD) cup, this isn’t necessarily the most anticipated part of pregnancy, but on the other hand I’ll need somewhere to store milk for two babies. I have some bras I “shrunk” out of (or perhaps the fabric just gave way) that will hopefully last me for a little bit.
Eight weeks, people. This sounds serious. I’m irrationally worried about a missed miscarriage. The thought of staring at this screen with no heartbeat just seems heartbreaking. Not worse than any other m/c, of course — that would be like comparing losing a loved one to a slow fatal disease or to a car accident. Both are horrible.
Next appointment is on Monday, the last one with my RE. Then appointment with the OB/gyn two weeks later.**
Conversely, I’m equally irrationally worried about suddenly “popping” and not fitting into my big jeans anymore. If, you know, the babies are still happy and growing. This happens later, right? I’m leaving for a conference in about a week — but the climate up there is much warmer, and I have some stretchy skirts, so I’ll work it out somehow. I’m probably just projecting my fears on something that seems controllable. (And most of the time I’m doing fine, don’t worry.)
* sorry for the metric units, I’ve never gotten used to US pounds… Google is awesome at converting them though
** the 2wws, they never stop, do they?