6.17.2009

Eight.

Eight. It is lucky number in China. Why, I don't know. I'm not Chinese. I just heard that during the 2008 Olympics (I believe most anything on television). But unlike the far east, eight is not my lucky number. It is actually a horrid number. 

Eight is the number of pounds I gained in two (2) weeks. TWO WEEKS. Impossible? Nay..."impossible things are happening everyday," (lyric from Cinderella, the musical). Leave it to me to accomplish the impossible.

On Monday, I had my 30 week check up. It consisted of the usual steps: urine sample, weight check, blood pressure check, belly measurement and heartbeat count. The urine sample was a cake walk. My blood pressure is awesome. The belly measurement is totally normal. And, Baby's heartbeat was perfect. My weight, on the other hand, is another story. 

I stepped on the scale, watched my number blink across the screen and gasped. The nurse writes it down, as she is talking about something. I, still trying to breathe, follow her to the exam room. I am quietly and quickly trying to do math in my head, while trying not to miss her questions about cramping and/or spotting (neither an issue). I calculate eight pounds. I must be wrong. I need a calculator. This can't be right. The nurse leaves to get the doctor. "Quick! Cell phone..." I think as I ponder the amount of time I have before the doctor knocks on my door (I don't text, so this is a challenge). "Beep beep beep," sounds my phone as I carefully plug the numbers in. Moment of truth as I hit the equal sign...then, 8 flashes on the small, glowing screen. Ack! Again. Same answer. Again! SAME ANSWER. 

Eight. Eight. Eight. The number, as if on a marquee continues to roll through my every thought. When the doctor arrives, I immediately tell her that I gained way too much weight. "Something must be wrong." The doctor is not at all concerned. She maintains that I look "cute" and have a "perfect belly." "Liar," I think to myself. Then, like a bipolar mess, quickly change my mind and encourage the flattery to continue. It helped long enough to get out of there, do the math one more time and call Ryan with my disgusting news. 

Eight pounds. It must be a record. Feel free to use this tale as a person self-esteem booster because no matter how fat or bloated you feel, I can guarantee you didn't gain eight pounds in two weeks. 


3 comments:

  1. I once lost eight pounds in one day. I'll let you figure that out.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your baby had a growth spurt :o) You look great!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Amelis, you have your dad's sense of humor, I know you are not kidding , but to us NNP is funny. Maybe Ryan and Jorge can give you that stuff they tried in May so you can get rid of the 8 lbs in one day ,like Ryan did, yes after Isabella is born.

    ReplyDelete