Well. Today I am 34 weeks and I am about at the end of my rope...
I have maxed out my ideal weight gain--last week at the doctors, I wanted to physically hurt the nurse when she was taking my weight--don't they know how traumatic (and loud) it is when they slam the metal weight thingy up to the next 50 pounds??
It was like I was watching in slow motion--slide the little measuring thingy to right. little more. little more. oh no, we are at the end and then BAM--whizzzzzzzzz it gets sent flying back down to the other end and then the giant SLAM as she throws the weight marker up another 50 pounds. And then she starts all over--little more to the right. little more...At this point, I was horrified and just staring and sending brain waves to her to a.) BE QUIET and b.) have a little compassion for the fatty on the scale... ugh. it was just ugly.
I told Mike last night that I am having such an internal struggle--I hate being this big but I. am so. hungry.
Please, someone tell me what hormonal/chemical need this baby is having that causes me to crave peanut butter cup ice cream at all hours of the day/night?
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