by Maggie Downs posted in Life

I was about 26 weeks along in my healthy pregnancy and at the doctor?s office for a routine appointment when the nurse practitioner said she had something serious to discuss with me.
I was splayed out on the bed in the exam room, my profound belly pointed to the ceiling, my legs slightly akimbo. A vulnerable position, physically but emotionally as well. Every visit to the doctor is a leap of faith, a wish made, a hope for the best.
I had no idea what the nurse was about to say. My baby was moving and kicking with regularity. I was eating well and felt terrific. In fact, I had biked to the doctor?s office for that very visit. Everything seemed normal.

 
?You?ve gained some weight,? she said.
?Yes, I have,? I said. ?Well, you?ve gained weight,? the nurse repeated.
?And ?"?
?You should watch it,? she said. ?You did so well over the holidays and didn?t gain anything, but now you?re gaining weight again.?
I pointed out that I was growing another body in mine. Weight happens.
That?s when the conversation went from mild concern and made a sharp detour toward condescending.
?You know, if I have a big dinner, the next day I run five miles to burn it off,? the nurse said. ?It?s not that hard.?
?I understand how calories work,? I said.
?Clearly you don?t,? she replied.

 
What the nurse didn?t realize was that I am intimately acquainted with calories ? and I have been ever since age 5, when my mom started charting my weekly weigh-ins....