I am ravenously hungry. All the time. And believe me, I'm eating. I am aware that I need enough calories and protein to breastfeed a 7-month-old and grow a human. I get it. I eat well. But my body is trying to mutiny. Apparently, it doesn't agree with my "wise" choices for how I get my calories. I eat fruit, cheese, soy milk, granola bars, oatmeal, and herbal tea during the day. I usually have some lean protein wrap or salad for lunch. I eat normal, healthful dinners.
My body wants to eat everything it sees and/or smells and/or thinks about. Unless its a carrot, then my body wants to projectile vomit. I understand that I am pregnant and that comes with some cravings, so I am trying to be compassionate to my body's demands. I would love to choose one craving to acquiesce per day, but I can never choose one thing above the others; I simply want to eat everything. All the time. I am never full.
My body wants to eat everything it sees and/or smells and/or thinks about. Unless its a carrot, then my body wants to projectile vomit. I understand that I am pregnant and that comes with some cravings, so I am trying to be compassionate to my body's demands. I would love to choose one craving to acquiesce per day, but I can never choose one thing above the others; I simply want to eat everything. All the time. I am never full.
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Well, I informed Lizzie that her Nanny has another baby in her tummy. She denied all of it and insisted that Baby Grace was not in her Nanny's belly any more, because she had just played with her for Christmas. I think it took a little while for her to think about the pregnancy, because about an hour later, she came out of her room dressed as "Fancy Nancy" and said to me, "My Nanny has a baby in her tummy and she is going to name Baby Lizzie like me, don't you think?" She then proceeded to carry her baby doll and a feathery purse in her high heels back to her bedroom. All I could do was laugh and say, "yes, baby."
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