Wednesday, October 15, 2008

In Which I Am Told: Eat More Chicken

Our first appointment at the birth center was yesterday. We met one of the three lovely midwives, all CNMs with lots of experience. All three fulfill my main criteria for medical professionals: won't give me treatment I don't need, and can recognize when it is needed. I love modern medicine, really I do. Low-risk births, however, do not (usually) need much ntervention. And the ambulance can pull right up to the birthing room and cart me to the hospital in fifteen minutes flat. Just in case.

The baby's heart is pitter-pattering away at 150something, and all is well. Dr. S does not want to find out the gender, and given how incredibly cranky I've been and how he's been doing all the cleaning, well, okay. ('Are you serious?' he asked. 'Yes!' I said. Then he gave me a deeply suspicious look, like, what's the catch. No catch, dear, really.)

The only not-great thing is, in four months I've gained... four pounds. I mean, I eat when I'm hungry, but noodles and edamame and frozen strawberries aren't really very caloric. 'Are you... a vegetarian?' she asked, looking at my average-daily-consumption. 'No,' I said, 'not any more.' 'Well,' she said, 'you really need more protein. A lot more protein.'

It reminded me forcibly of a conversation my pregnant and chronically-anemic sister had with her OB:
'Do you eat meat?' the OB asked.
'Yes!' my sister said.
'No, no. I don't mean, do you have chicken on Shabbos. Do you eat MEAT??'
'Er... no?'
'Go get a steak.'

Tonight: biscuits and sausage (well, kosher turkey sausage patty) gravy. Mmmmmm.
P.S. Found a job ad for a part-time scientific editing job. Perfect for having a baby. My resume could have been written for this job. HIRE ME HIRE ME HIRE ME!!!