That’s what the doctor’s office tells me. I don’t know if I believe them entirely, though. My doctor tells me reassuring things all the time, like not to listen to the horror stories about labor and delivery because, “It will be the most incredible day of your life.” What does she know? She’s only been delivering babies for 15 years, and given birth to two of her own. And, I’ve never done this before.
Last week’s appointment was good for my self-esteem though. They called me back, and we stopped off at the scales, like we always do. I dread that part. I hand my purse to Dean, and start fantasizing about taking off my shoes, and jewelry, and anything else I can get by with in hopes of getting a digit or two lower. The scale balanced on a number, and I shot Dean a look of despair and horror. I stepped off, and trampled down the hall. Boy, those halls were narrow. They obviously weren’t made for elephants. The nurse came in, checked my blood pressure, started taking my measurements and said, “Man, you’re all baby, aren’t you?” I smiled, and sighed a little. “That’s what I like to hear!” I said. Then, the doctor came in, looked at my chart and smiling brightly said, “You’ve only gained __ pounds!” I’d been thinking about how much I weighed, and how that’s by far the biggest I’ve ever been. It never occurred to me how much I’d put on. My weight gain has been perfectly normal. I walked out of there, feeling like a pregnant woman, but no longer an elephant.
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