Weigh To Go Isobel!

Hooray, Isobel has regained her birth weight and a little for good measure!

She is such a clever girl.



Hooray for me because I'm back in my old jeans - ok so maybe not my 'skinny' jeans, but my non-elasticated pre-pregnancy jeans all the same.

The Snake who Swallowed a Football

Last week I read a column in the Guardian, written by Zoe Williams. Zoe has just had a baby and while her column isn’t necessarily a take on that in particular, it’s more her take on the world, this particular one rang home; she was writing about, and celebrating the fact that Milla Jovovich piled on the pounds when pregnant. I never thought putting on weight in pregnancy would worry me, I definitely thought it was a time to blossom, eat healthily and not worry about my weight, but I’ve found the opposite is true. More than anything I am verging on , but not quite, neurotic about it.

As I’ve said before, it’s not like I was a skinny, figure proud, super-model before and maybe it’s the whole carb issue, but I weigh myself daily! And it’s not looking for signs that my beautiful baby is growing, it’s more about making sure I can get back in my jeans once Bobbit arrives. Sensibly, I know that I had some excess to spare before so I really don’t need to put on more than a stone or a stone and a half at most, and so far I have put on about four and a half pounds – not too bad for 21 weeks. It’s just that there is little carb tyre that I have acquired, which my mother says will dangle under my bump – that’s what I don’t want. It’s not that I want that celeb look of a snake that swallowed a football (as RD puts it), but I want to be proud of the fact that my bump is baby not pies! Don’t get me wrong I’m not dieting, I’ve always eaten healthily and I have been known to have an extra biscuit ‘for the baby’ of course, it’s just that I am super aware of my weight gain.

I don’t think it’s pressure from the press, and as for peer pressure, there is only one person I worry about being compared to, and I really shouldn’t because she isn’t that important or that special; and my little sister only put on a stone and she had a beautiful 7lb baby. I guess I don’t really know where it’s come from and I’m sure I’m not alone in my desire to have a beautiful pregnancy.

(Please don’t think RD has anything to do with this either, he really doesn’t seem to mind my bump at all; his ardour doesn’t seem to have waned. And he soon stopped calling me ‘Tubby’ and has moved onto ‘Preggers’.)

Maybe I should just chill, make a cup of tea, and have a biscuit - for the baby of course…