Anyway, since I know y'all passed elementary level math and know some basics about pregnancy, you’ve probably deduced I’m 17 weeks along now. As such, I recently had my 16-week checkup with my OB. Part of the routine that I’ve become familiar with is the dreaded weigh in. Let’s be honest ladies - there aren’t many of us that don’t fear the scale on a NORMAL day, let alone when you can’t control your weight gain. (Okay, yes, I know you can somewhat control it by eating healthy, exercising, blah, blah, blah…, but at some point you’re STILL going to gain weight to accommodate the baby your body has become a vessel for!)
Since I’m still at the early weeks right now, Eric’s been faithfully going to each appointment with me. Awh shucks. Here’s where my favorite person comes into play…
As I’m dragging my feet on the way to the dreaded scale, I start to hand Eric my jacket and purse because trust me – I’m not about to get weighed with those suckers on! I carry just about everything under the sun in my purse and that would easily add another 5 pounds. Yikes. No thanks. So just as I’m about to step on the scale, Eric’s all right next to me trying to peep what I’m clocking in at. Umm, NO! I don’t care how long we’ve been together! I’ll be 90 years old and STILL refusing to tell you my weight. There are certain things that just don’t need to be shared and a woman’s weight is certainly one of them.
Now, in all fairness, who knows if he was really trying to steal a glance, or if he just happened to be positioned in a bad spot (the area isn’t that large…there’s not a whole lot of other places he could go to not be in the way).
Either way, my new favorite person (my OB’s nurse Kathy) turns to Eric and says: “Umm, you don’t get to look! Turn your head.”
Kathy, you are my HERO!
~as
No comments:
Post a Comment