The day after Christmas, my scale broke.
Which is not necessarily a bad thing being that it was the day after Christmas (i.e. "your-tummy-hurts-so-bad-from-all-that-food-day") and I am pregnant, so who really cares what I weigh, right?!
Except I gained 51 pounds with the first babe. 51. That's about 40% of my total weight before preggo. Yeah. That's ALOT of weight.
And I really don't want to go through the agony of losing it all over again. Especially because I wasn't very good at losing it the first time (being that I was still so damned hungry all the time!) until I got stupidly sick and lost the final 9 lbs in three days.
So with my scale broken, I have been a bit worried what the next OB visit will bring. "Oh, my, you have been eating, haven't you?!" comments reminiscent of my visits with Bjorn. And I'm busting out of my real clothes already at 11 1/2 weeks. While I know you usually show sooner with your second, I was hoping this really was showing and not just, well. . . fat.
Today I told the Hubs about the scale. (Because he doesn't need to weigh himself. As long as the jeans button, he's good!)
"Did you check the batteries?" he asked.
"Sigh. . . . "
The batteries were then checked, changed and the scale (miraculously!) unbroken.
And the verdict?
I've gained 2.5 lbs since December 6. 2.5. I am deliriously happy with that.
Today at my Dr's appt, my OB said "We are really at the beginning of being able to hear the baby's heartbeat. It's very soon, and I wouldn't even be trying to hear it if you weren't skinny."
Yeah, me. Skinny again. Sigh. Have I told you how much I love my OB?!
And, yes, we were able to hear the heartbeat. 149 beats. According to old wives tales, anything over 140 is a girl. Except that Bjorn was always consistently at 160+ beats and he, obviously, is a boy.
Other than that, all is good. Almost 12 weeks with no morning sickness, 2.5 lbs weight gain, a normal healthy baby heartbeat and the need for more maternity clothes pronto.