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Thursday, July 17, 2003
Day 150: so-so news from the midwife

There are two days Elisa looks forward to with fervent zeal -- the baby's birthday, and our monthly visit to the midwife.

We see Hsui-Li every four weeks, and it's Elisa's opportunities to unload all her angst and worries on her. From the absurd:

"My belly button is still not an outie. Is the baby okay?"
To the, umm, revolting:
"When I sneeze, a clear liquid comes out. Is the baby okay?"
(I swear, pregnancy is all about liquids.)

We get to listen to the baby's heartbeat (though that is no longer that interesting when we can see the baby's kicks), and we're sent on our way, fresh new worries and concerns forming in Elisa's head.

But this visit was different.

Upon arriving at the office, the routine is set: she pees in a cup (didn't I say it was all about liquids?), then weighs herself.

In past visits, Elisa would freak out at her weight gains. She would only gain a few pounds a month, and then worry about the horrible things it meant for the baby's health.

This time, she clocked in at 17 pounds heavier than last month. The nurse who was jotting down the weight frowned, "that's not good".

When Hsui-Li saw the number, she frowned too, "that's impossible". She dragged Elisa back to the scale. It was true -- she weighed 146, up from 129 the previous month. That put her up 32 pounds from the start of the pregnancy (they say 40 pounds should be the limit, and the baby still has, well, about seven pounds to grow).

Hsui-Li was still skeptical. She pulled Elisa off the scale and then weighed herself, just to make sure the scale was working properly.

The scale was just fine.

So now Elisa is distraught -- she was having fun eating whatever she wanted, like ice cream, and nasty McDonald's breakfast sandwiches, and French 3-cheese and butter sandwiches for lunch, and heck, anything with over 30% of the daily recommended allowance of saturated fats. Now, she's been ordered to go on a diet.

Which is also no fun for me. I have to deal with a grumpy Elisa that has never had to watch what she eats (she weighed 99 pounds when we got married), and we can't eat out as much as we're used to doing. In fact, I may actually have to help Elisa in the kitchen. I used to cook, back when I was wooing Elisa. Since then, the local taqueria has been good enough.

But not any more. This baby better be worth it. I mean, really, really cute. And not too stinky.

by Kos | July 17, 2003 10:16 PM