Looking back, I think I should have known I was having twins. I gained a pound a week my first trimester, and by 16 weeks, I’d gained almost 20 pounds. I thought it was a little, well, excessive, but since my midwife wasn’t concerned, I just chalked it up to a third pregnancy thing.
But my body knew, even if I didn’t, that I needed to gain more weight. And now that I know, too, I’ve been learning all sorts of crazy things about nutrition and weight gain for a twin-pregnancy.
The biggest surprise to me is that you don’t need to gain an extra 8 or 10 pounds for that extra baby; you need to gain an extra 25 or 30. It’s like being two pregnant women instead of just one.
Luckily, I’m well on my way (get it?) to packing on 50 pounds during this pregnancy. I’m on this high-protein, high-calorie diet that most people can only dream about. Here’s what I’m supposed to eat every day:
• 8 cups of milk or yogurt (or 8 hefty slices of cheese)
• 4 cups of vegetables
• 4 cups of fruit
• 10 cups of cooked grains or cereal (or 10 slices of bread)
• 2 eggs
• 9 ounces of meat, fish, or poultry, at least 6 of which should be beef or pork
• 16 cups of water (If you do the math, my friends, you’ll realize that’s a whole gallon, which is a lot for anyone, especially for someone who has two babies sitting on her bladder.)
In order to get all this food crammed down my throat, I eat all the time—every two hours, whether I’m hungry or not.
Can I whine for just a moment and say I am so sick of eating?
And I’m not one of those anorexic chicks who doesn’t actually like food, either. I love food. There are few things in life I like more than good food. A good book, maybe, and a good conversation with a good friend—both of which are made even better when paired with good food.
But too much of a good thing is still too much.
The other night, Doug made me my after-dinner milkshake—16 ounces of milk and ice cream and cocoa powder. He set it down on the table beside me and said, “Drink up.”
I put my head on my arms and moaned. “I don’t want it.” And I didn’t. I was still full from the seven meals I’d already eaten that day.
But I was a good girl. I drank the whole shake.
I sure hope these babies appreciate the sacrifices I’m making for them.
As your sister, I feel it is my duty to also make sacrifices for your babies.
Because I love you so much I cannot watch you suffer alone, I too will endure this wretchedness. From now until your due date, I will drink sympathy milkshakes. You know, to show my support.
Can I join in too?
Jen and Sarah,
Thanks for not letting me suffer alone. I’m pretty sure that with your help this new diet will become a fad that sweeps the nation, and then I’ll have lots of company. Of course I won’t have the luxury of complaining anymore. Rats.