Whale-tale.

I am fat.

I know, I know, "you're not fat, you're pregnant". As if offhandedly saying that is really going to make me feel better about it, y'know?

The truth is, I am fat. I've gained 18 pounds in the past two months and my OB/GYN has no idea why.

At my December appointment, I also peed out enough sugar to bake a cake, leading her to think that maybe my sudden bout of fatassness was due to diabetes. After a month of trying to force myself into the GI diet, I went back last week only to have no glucose in my urine whatsoever--which didn't stop the scale from budging up almost ten pounds more.

The problem is that I'm simply not eating enough to be gaining this much weight. Weight, after all, doesn't just pop up--you have to put food in your body for it to be converted into blood, tissue, fat, poop, whatever. For the last four weeks, I wrote down everything that went into my mouth, halved my carbohydrate intake, ditched the sugar--and gained eight pounds.

My doctor warned me that if this doesn't stop, I'm going to weigh way, way more than either of us would be comfortable with by the time my pregnancy was over, and it wasn't going to come off. Hell, I weigh far more now that I'm comfortable with, and it's only going to get worse from here.

My OB whipped out her pink rhinestone tape measure* and plopped it over my belly--at least I'm not having a 38 pound baby. My stomach isn't measuring large--so where am I packing on the pounds? I found out where all the poundage is going at the Chinese restaurant during lunch on Tuesday. They have a full-length mirror in the restroom, something that I don't have at home. I hiked up my shirt, dropped my pants and took a look, and dear god my legs are disgusting. I knew they were getting bag, but holy Christ, I look like I have chicken drumsticks for thighs. My butt is one big stretch mark--literally, I have stretch marks--horizontally--from hip to hip. It's disgusting, and I want to know why this is happening because I don't eat enough for this to happen.

I re-downloaded the fitness app for my phone that I had been using to successfully track calories and lose a few pounds before getting pregnant. I had a normal day and then a force-myself-to-eat-a-lot day. What happened? For the normal day, I came in 300 calories under my "goal", and for my day of self-imposed binge eating, I came in 250 calories over. My "goal" calorie limit was set to "maintain current weight", and the tracker calculated that if every day was like the binging day, I'd gain a pound in five weeks. I can't imagine trying to stuff myself that full of food on a daily basis.

I don't understand how I'm gaining almost two pounds a week. I suppose I could have a tumor, but don't people with tumors usually... lose weight? I thought cancer made you skinny. Then again, cancer just made me depressed and angry, then it took a dump on my sex life, and then I got fat (being depressed and angry and losing your libido will do that to a person).

My OB wants to see my gaining half a pound a week from here on out so that my overall weight gain during pregnancy is still less than 35 pounds. 35 pounds--that's almost forty! I don't want to gain 35 pounds. Why couldn't I be one of those cute pregnant ladies who only gains 20 pounds and gets the cute little bump instead of some sort of magical fat-producing whale creature with drumstick thighs?





*Remember when I said I had a soft-spoken, serious OB? I do. She has a pink, sparkly tape measure. This amuses me.