Food and Pregnancy.

Pretty much my whole life I've had a love-hate relationship with food. I love to eat it but hate that it makes me fat. Which I'm pretty much certain is the way every other person in the world feels about food. So it's good to know that I'm not alone there.

But I've always been able to maintain a healthy balance. I'm certainly not rail thin but luckily I also don't resemble a hippo. Plus I can eat pretty much everything I want and only fluctuate 5-7 pounds on any given day. And I've always been cool with that. Cake is greater than six-pack abs. At least in my opinion.

But now that I'm pregnant I am freaking out. I've seen women that I know get pregnant, gain weight, have the baby, and 1 year later be 25 pounds heavier than they were before they got pregnant. I'm not judging them... I'm positively certain that once you have a baby, all time and effort that you normally put into yourself goes on the back burner and let's be serious here... losing weight is HARD. But I also know I do not, under any circumstances, want to never be able to fit into my jeans ever again.  

I discussed this fear with a good friend of mine and her solution was this: Gain only the necessary 20 pounds during the pregnancy and continue being active after, and the pounds will just melt off. 

Ummm... right. 

I would love to pretend that all I'm craving right now is oranges and cauliflower but let's be serious. My cravings for pasta, and french fries, and frosties are so intense sometimes that I literally begin to feel nauseous until the craving is satisfied. 

Obviously, my friend has never been pregnant. 

Not to mention that when I do begin feel nauseous, the only thing that helps take the edge off is carbs. And I'm talking heavy carbs. I've tried to eat fruit and yogurt and other healthy alternatives, and they work... for like, 10 minutes... and then the feeling of of my stomach trying to escape through my throat comes back worse. And then I'll start to cry. And then Brandon will literally sprint at full speed to wherever need be and I find myself sitting on the floor with tears running down my face... eating a double cheeseburger. 

And as I'm taking every delicious bite.. I imagine myself looking like this:

No offense, Jessica Simpson... 

And I cry more.

My love-hate relationship with food is just beginning to get serious. 

Yikes.