42 Days to Go and Pregnancy Sucks

With 42 days left until my Expected Due Date, I'm pleased to report I can't recall the last time I vomited. Hurray! There has still been the occasional bout of nausea over the past few weeks, I'm still (impossibly) more of a picky eater than I was before I got pregnant, and eggs are still a big no-no. My appetite comes and goes, but in general I am hungry more often, and eating on a regular basis. About two weeks ago I finally gained back all of the weight I had lost in the First Trimester, and for about a week I have been holding steady at +2.5 pounds over my Positive Pregnancy Test Day weight. Woo-hoo!

Today I read an article about morning sickness over at Pregnancy and Newborn magazine online entitled I hate food, and it really struck a chord. I've had a love/hate relationship with food for all of my life. I've been overweight my entire life due to poor diet and a steady intake of junk food. My mother swears I adored raw tomatoes as a toddler, but my memory tells me I have always loathed them. I remember as a child fighting with my mother regularly over her forcing us to have milk at meals, but by the time I was in high school I was a bona fide milk lover. As an adult I eat a lot more foods than I did as a child, but I still refuse to eat seafood, can't tolerate spicy foods, detest cheesecake and sour cream, and think coffee is just nasty. But as an adult, I have frequently found myself complaining too loudly and too often about my own fussy eating habits - I have been known to utter the phrase "I hate food" quite often. Because loving some food, hating some food, and having low tolerance for most everything in between has led to quite a boring diet. Not to mention bad for me! One of my greatest fears is being diagnosed with Diabetes, at which point I will be forced to give up the few foods I enjoy, and somehow survive on foods I can merely tolerate, while possibly having to choke down some foods I hate.

Being diagnosed with gestational diabetes was a real kick in the pants. But so far, nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. Now that I've fallen into a rhythm of avoiding too many carbs at a time while eating protein and veggies more regularly, it's become quite tolerable. Unfortunately, food is still on my brain much too often, as I'm constantly worrying about what I'm going to eat at my next meal that won't bring back the nausea while still being appetizing enough to actually have the meal instead of skipping it. So I am extra thankful that the vomiting and nausea are on the way out, or all this thinking about food would be just intolerable!

So now that I'm finally enjoying a healthier pregnancy, I think I'm ready to start writing seriously about my favorite topic: Pregnancy Sucks. Because it really, really has been a sucky pregnancy. I have experienced so much bad luck, I've questioned how the human race has possibly survived this long - surely "survival of the fittest" should have eliminated a species that has as much trouble during pregnancy as we do. Nine months is a long gestational period in the animal kingdom. Nine months of being incapacitated by ailment after ailment? It seriously boggles my mind. I've experienced so much, not expecting most of it (not even being aware of even the possibilities for much of it), that I have time and again wondered the age old question "If I had known then what I know now, would I have done this?" Would I have gotten pregnant knowing how miserable I was going to be? Right now, I'm still convinced this whole thing is going to be worth it. But I have no idea what would happen if my present self went back in time to tell my about-to-get-pregnant self all of the hardships I've had to endure. I'm not sure I would still think it would be worth it if I knew about all of it ahead of time. I find that a bit disturbing. I'm seriously considering consoling myself with a bit of chocolate. I really, really hate chocolate. It's deliciousness only marginally outweighs its insidiousness. Only just. Problem is, that just adds to the innate evil. And don't even get me started on all the Girl Scout cookie stations I encountered this weekend. Surely steering clear of all of them like a good girl has earned me some small, chocolatey reward? Right?