I weigh three pounds less than I did at my first doctor’s visit. At that point I had morning sickness, so I probably hadn’t gained any weight yet. Evelyn will be eleven weeks old tomorrow, and eleven weeks ago I weighed thirty-two more pounds than I do now. So, basically I’ve lost thirty-two pounds in eleven weeks. This wouldn’t be as miraculous to me if it hadn’t been for the fact that I have never eaten more food IN MY LIFE than I have eaten in the last eleven weeks.
Back when I was a human incubator, I was told that I wasn’t eating for two, that I only really needed to eat three hundred more calories per day than I usually did. I remember being scolded at one of my doctors appointments for gaining an extra pound than I should have since my last visit. If you’re smarter than a second grader, you probably figured out that I gained twenty-nine pounds during my pregnancy. I was pretty good at following the doctor’s orders, I gained one pound less than what she recommended, and that was on a pretty good diet, but that was probably because I didn’t really have a ton of cravings during my pregnancy, I mostly craved foods that cooled me down because of the obscene heat. I would not recommend getting pregnant at this time of year unless you’re willing to eat tons of popsicles, I mean enough popsicles to recreate your 3,000 square foot home with popsicle sticks. Having said that, I do think the weather made my belly a better habitat for a growing fetus because it produced The Most Adorable Baby in the World.
Anyway, I credit this weight loss to the sustaining of a human life with the contents of my boobs. I eat about as much as Tolkien’s hobbits, yet I’ve lost all of my pregnancy weight because now I AM eating for two. So, if you want to lose weight while eating anything you want, get pregnant, gain thirty pounds, give birth then feed that baby with your boobs. I swear it works. Side effects include sleep deprivation, poopy diapers, and responsibility for the life of a child for the next eighteen plus years.