Okay, since the dismal defeat of our orange men 2 weeks ago, I haven't blogged (although I've been reading yours!) - it was a poorly played game; TD's disappointment was bitter.
But, we rally! And I've had so many naps since then that it seems like a lifetime ago!
(*interrupted to report that Furball #2 is sleeping underneath my desk and is having some kind of dream - her little paws and nose are twitching a mile a minute...very cute*)
Given the condition my condition is currently in (and the fact that it is indeed a growing condition), I've been thinking a lot about my body lately. I've been diagnosed with borderline gestational diabetes and it was explained to me that this is because I'm carrying twins. Indeed, I haven't changed my diet a bit and I've been taking my glucose readings 4 times daily for several days and my readings have never been above 110 (they should remain below 120 2 hours after each meal). This all lends a bit of skepticism to the diagnosis, but I'll play ball.
So, I dutifully went to my diabetes education class with other ladies in "the family way" (as the leader called us) and I listened to a woman rattle on for 2 hours about how if we didn't get our diabetes in check we were going to give birth to "little sumo wrestlers" (said in an overly cutesy, saccharin voice - my blood sugar just spiked). I wanted to jump across the table and strangle this horrid woman within the first 5 minutes. Seriously, I wished her very ill and it didn't get any better the longer I was there. And these women in the class did nothing but moan about how they could no longer eat their Hostess Fruit Pies and drink full on leaded Coke the rest of their pregnancies. Now, I'm in no way poo-pooing these items - if I didn't get heartburn just looking at a Ding-Dong at the moment, I'd be inhaling them right and left. But, I just wanted to get the info and get out. I have absolutely no intention of counting my carbs and sugars and doing exchanges, etc. for the next 9 weeks. Especially because after eating tater tots and hot dogs, burgers and fries, my blood sugar still isn't above 108. Ha. Vindication.
But it was at the moment that the woman told us that we need to get our "lovely svelte figures" back as soon as possible after delivery that I took notice (and vowed to kill her as soon as no one was looking). She pointed to all of our globular physiques and motioned to the belly area and said, "this is ALL TYPE TWOOOOOOOOOO!"* But her certainty that we were all in the crosshairs of this disease because we were a) pregnant and b) therefore, fat, made me fume. Now, I'm all for staying on top of things and being as healthy as you can and being aware if you're at a higher risk for something. I also live in the South and this woman suggested that all of us ladies hie ourselves to our churches and Wal-Marts and get the pounds off asap by walking around in an air-conditioned space (it has actually been prohibitively hot here). But this just made me want to declare myself a big lesbian Satanist communist and reach for a Twinkie.
I hate that shit. Especially when the purveyor of that shit is asking me to poke my finger with a sharp object 4 times a day.
But all of this got me thinking later about how I've been feeling about my growing spherical shape during this whole odyssey. Horrid evil woman seemed to be suggesting that we were fat (or had started out fat) and would continue to be fat unless we were scared skinny by the likes of her.
Now, I have always struggled with my weight and I haven't been really comfy with my body for the past 10 years (and at certain times before that - but does anyone think they look awesome in highschool? Anyone real, I mean...). I've made peace with the fact that I'm basically shaped like a hobbit and who doesn't love cute hobbits (besides Saaaaaauuuuuuraaaaannnnnn)? But in recent years, I've become a more rotund hobbit than I was before.
However, since getting sprogged up, I have to say I've taken on a totally different outlook on my body. I actually think I look fantastic and I wear tight shirts that show off my bod in a way I've never done before (I was always kind of a "buy two sizes up and nothing will cling" kind of lady). At first I thought that I was getting more comfortable with my body because I now felt like I had a reason or an excuse to be overweight or the shape I am. But that's not it. I actually look at myself in the mirror and I don't think I'm fat anymore. It's not like the kids have magically eaten my butt into a size 4 or anything (although I was sort of hoping that would happen). And my arms certainly aren't any more toned than they ever were. But I just think I look kind of frickin' great all the time and it's really cool. It helps that TD is magically drawn to my tummy in a cool, awe-filled, unskeevy way and he's always telling me I look great. Could this be hormones? Possibly. Could this new body self-image go away after delivery? Possibly. But I really hope it sticks around...
*she was referring to the statistic that between 50% and 80% of women who have significant gestational diabetes will develop Type 2 diabetes within 5 years. Basically, you have to keep an eye on it and get tested every year. Makes sense.
P.S. TD surprised me last night with a gift certificate of 5 hour-long pre-natal massages. And then I woke him up at 2:30 with what I thought were signs of pre-term labor (way too early at 29 weeks). So, we spent 4 hours in the women's hospital and found that it was only a false alarm and everything is great. They were lovely and told us to come back even if we suspected something hinky. But it was no fun. At least we got to see the sun rise as we left the hospital!