When I found I was pregnant that was one thing that saddened me. I had just started to fit in clothes that had been sitting unused in the back of the closet the past 5 years. Beautiful, fitted, and in single digit sizes. I believed that in my battle with my weight this was another case of one step forward, two steps back.
Thanks to hyperemesis, some of them are now fitting loosely as early maternity wear (not the extremely fitted blouses, but most anything else). And oh, I’m showing with great obviousness--I never was one who carried small--So it’s not just because it’s so early that I wouldn’t be changing wardrobes yet.
I’ve just lost that much weight.
Funny how I can work for years to try and lose it and be frustrated beyond all belief. And then it waits to drop off when it’s bad for me to be losing weight.
Ah well. The drop seems to have stopped, so that’s good.
I want to give thanks for having such a lovely husband.
During this time of great annoyance he has been wonderful. He’s taken over pretty much everything and done it with grace.
I’m not sure where Sasha stands in all of this.
I ask him about siblings or start a conversation about Mommy having a baby and he just looks at me, holds my face in his hands, and with a look of total seriousness says:
“Mommy, I need a snack.”
But then, that’s his answer to everything lately. So he has been something of a sphinx about anything but his thoughts on food.