(I'm sipping
on some Reed's "Original Ginger Brew" as I type this, trying to stave
off more nausea. It's pretty tasty, and it seems to be working!) So I'm
supposed to gain about 30 pounds -- at least, a "typical" gain is about
30 pounds per pregnancy. Only 7.5 of that is baby. Each of my breasts
should gain 1 to 2 pounds -- ouch! My poor back... already hurts where
my more-efficient kidneys are working over-time to make me pee more
often and filter the 4 extra pounds of fluid I should be developing in
my tissues. I should also be creating up to seven additional pounds of
"fat stores" to be delivered to the babe through my milk (here's hoping
my body will figure out that it already has plenty of "fat stores" and
doesn't need to be creating any more). Interestingly, the muscle called
my uterus should gain 2 pounds -- only 2 pounds!! And by the time I
give birth, my uterus should be the biggest and strongest muscle in my
body. Crazy. I should also gain 2 pounds of amniotic fluid (into which
my kid should be able to pee in a few weeks) and 1.5 pounds of placenta.
Oh, and 4 extra pounds of blood!!!
My body, which already faints so
often that I was requested to not donate blood anymore, is now going to
have to find some way of creating, circulating, and storing 4 more
pounds of blood. Outrageous. It makes me think about Mary and Jesus and
how His blood -- which atoned for all of Mans' sin -- probably pumped
through her veins first. It makes those scenes in "The Passion" seem
even grosser somehow. It's gotta be so hard to be a mom. Oh, and I was
exactly 9 pounds when I was born, and Ben was exactly 10, so I'm not
exactly looking forward to the whole last few weeks of pregnancy, nor
the actual delivery... at least, not at this point. Maybe by then my
body will have suffered so many other odd things, that I won't flinch at
the thought... we'll see.
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