Editor’s Note: Jenna will be blogging about her adventures through pregnancy. This is her third installment of Jenna's (Baby) Food for Thought.
ME: I’m hungry.
MY UNBORN CHILD: So am I. Salad please. Or fruit. Or perhaps a fruit salad maybe?
ME: I think I’ll have plain pasta with salt.
MY UNBORN CHILD: Again?!?!
And therein lies the dialogue between me and my belly day in and day out. While my intentions are salad-related, my appetite is all CRAVE. Even now, pushing six months pregnant (five and a half to be all mathematical about it), I can’t seem to get back on my nutritional track.
My old diet: Yogurt, fruit, nuts, eggs, salad, protein, veggies, grains, protein.
New diet: Cold cereal, bagel, order a salad for lunch (good), only eat the croutons from that salad (yeesh), pasta, pasta, a pickle, pasta, dessert.
So here’s the deal - all these people are coming up to me complimenting what they think are my near-perfect fitness and nutritional habits, commending me on how healthy my baby is going to be because of how active I’m staying and how well I’m eating during this pregnancy. Yeah, well, that's not exactly happening.
I sort of feel like I did back in high school when all my friends got into Cornell except me, but I spent a good two weeks telling people I hadn’t opened my letter yet because I was waiting for my dad to get home from a business trip. But Dad wasn’t away on business and I didn’t get into Cornell. (You’re shocked, I know.) So I'll just say it... I'm battling the pregnancy pitfalls and am struggling to stay on the fitness track. But please know I'm trying.
Other areas I fear I’ve lost some footing... math.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I had no trouble whatsoever dividing numbers by four, but now that I live in a world where everything seems to revolve around the number of weeks in a month, I seem to be dumber than a 5th grader.
ME: How old is your baby?
RANDOM MOTHER: 18 months
ME: (to myself) Ummmm... carry the one... that’s um... she’s 12?
RANDOM MOTHER: Have a nice day.
Lately I’ve been carrying around a calculator and I start punching in numbers every time someone talks to me in weeks. When did THAT start, and when, pray tell, does that end? Should I be telling people that I’ll be turning 480 months old next year? I mean I feel like that’s a little excessive. I guess I could be wrong. And by the way, I’m not even sure I’m using the calculator correctly on my iPhone. The last conversion I did from years to months gave me 6 feet 4 inches. What does that even mean?
Other areas of growing concern to me these days... the baby registry.
So apparently one needed to have majored in BABY PREP in college to fully grasp the enormity of the information being doled out. I focused longer and harder and used more brain cells on my registry than I ever did for the SAT’S, or my AP finals, or the time I was tested by my camp bunkmate Meredith Englander on my knowledge of Michael J. Fox (which btw, is incredible).
Granted, today I’ve got the attention span of a carrot, but still, this baby stuff isn’t easy. There are 42 ways to open, close, attach and detach the stroller. You feed an infant no less than 150 times a day. There are baby monitors which connect via Wi-Fi to NASA. There are breast pumps intricate enough to irrigate canals in third world countries. There are 8,000 species of plush stuffed animal toys. Onesies, twosies, threesies... oy.
And then there’s the kid-carrying choice between the Baby Bjorn or the Baby Erg...oh and I’ve seen women wear a large handkerchief draped across the body which may or may not even contain an infant.
Bottom line, I’m sure I’ll figure it all out as I move along this pregnancy path. People have had babies since the beginning of time and they’ve somehow managed to do it without all the gadgets afforded us today. Heck, my mom used cloth diapers on me (gross) with safety pins (SAFETY PINS!!) and I managed to find my way to the TODAY show. My friend’s mom drank beer and ate pretzels throughout the entire pregnancy and SHE got into Cornell! My other friend’s mom had her chew on a pencil while she was teething and she’s now a doctor!
And as for the other stuff... all the self-proclaimed nutrition and fitness failings, I’m sure I’ll right my ship when I need to. I spent 30 years in the gym, often times twice a day working out. I spent too many dollars to count on clean, organic healthy food to fuel my body. I would imagine that a little break from all of that won’t hurt.
That being said, my baby had better get into Cornell, become a doctor AND get on TODAY.
FATE LOVES THE FEARLESS.... and there’s no better place to test that mantra than on this next chapter of my life.
ME: Hey I finished my blog
MY PARTNER STEPH: Oh that’s so great! What’s it about this week?
ME: Um, it’s about, well, like just stuff that I guess I’m confused by... sort of?
ME: Good talk.
Hey pregnant ladies, even those of you who used to eat, breathe, sleep, dream, speak and live for fitness all the time like I did, is it me, or is it really hard to get your tired, often times nauseous, exhausted body off the couch, to the gym followed by a giant plate of oversized leafy greens? Tell me about it in the comments.