Saturday, March 7, 2009

Peaks and Valleys

Friday morning, at 21 weeks pregnant, I finally made it into the Doctor's office for my 20 week appointment( who can blame me for canceling the one on Wednesday after already having spent six hours in the ER? ). Six hours in the ER you ask? Oh, no biggie- just a FENDER BENDER that caused me to lose one day of work officially and then another unofficially in which I pretended to work but really spent the day on the phone with insurance/adjustors/car rentals blah blah blah. And after absorbing the depth of what happened , and getting all test results back clearing us of any concern, I realize that in the truest of Lori fashion I had managed to topple the apple cart exactly one day after I sent out an e-mail to all of my nearest and dearest, bragging about my luck these days...

Anyway- back to that appointment Friday. And I knew what was coming. I saw the scale. It was a big one, the kind they use to weigh folks who have really overdone it. I think someone flipped on Jaws music as I approached it. I whipped off my shoes and contemplated discarding my jewlery as well, because it could weigh a pound or two, right?


I inhaled deeply and hopped on and before I could even consider what an acceptable weight gain might be, a very large and UN-acceptable number showed up on the screen. I may have screamed, but I am not sure. I did ask the nurse for a piece of paper to write down this number. It was so large that I figured I would accidently black it out. Total weight gain at 21 weeks ? TWENTY POUNDS. POUNDS! I said POUNDS! I have now reached a weight I have never reached before. Let's not forget I still have 19 weeks to go AND I am only supposed to gain a grand total of 25 pounds. Doing the math, I am seeing that this is not all adding up properly. Not adding up properly at all.
I managed to make it through the remaining parts of my exam, and bleary eyed- drove from there to the school to teach the second half of the day. As I entered the building in a daze, a few co-workers stopped to ask me about the accident. "Accident? What accident? OH! THAT accident! Yeah, I am fine." In mind that was Wednesday's crisis. And since we have moved on from that- we currently now have some other fish to fry... like the size of my ass. And when I say other fish to fry? It makes me salivate. Fish and chips sounds fantastic.

The accident will be covered by insurance. There are no injuries. Cars can be replaced with just a few phone calls, really. But 20 pounds? Unlike the "accident", this mess was created by weeks of poor decision making as opposed to a more acceptable flash of poor judgement. And eventually I know it will take months to remove. Sigh! Isn't life just a series of peaks and valleys?

1 comment:

Jen W said...

1) Never use the words "fry" and "fish" in the same sentence that has "size of my ass".

2) Don't look next time you go back. I mean it. Just. don't.look. Tell the nurse you don't want to know and step on the scale backwards.

Worry about it after the baby's here.