Detoxing on cheese and wine…March 4, 2010
I caught a terrifying glimpse of myself in the living room mirror yesterday while doing my Denise Austin Pregnancy Plus workout. The sight embarrassed me so much I had to close the curtains just in case a neighbor happened to be spying on the hefty pregnant lady.
My eating habits while in the states are borderline disgusting. I have this tendency to fill up on all the things I miss out on in France – really just the junk food. During the past two and a half weeks my meals have included, but are not limited to, twice McDonald’s (which I don’t miss as it exists in France), twice pizza delivery, twice Long John Silvers, one Krispy Kreme and one local doughnut joint, Olive Garden and Bahama Breeze along with some local Italian place, one Grand Country Buffet and one Texas Roadhouse, and let’s not forget the Chinese Buffet’s breaded and deep fried sweet and sour chicken. And I never made it to the Brighton Hot Dog Shoppe which will have to wait until the next visit. I’ve had enough. I feel ill just thinking about it. I feel like I need a detox of cheese, saucisson and wine. Or maybe I should try Mireille Guiliano’s Magic Leek Diet of “French Women Don’t Get Fat” fame. Maybe not while pregnant. She should consider writing a book entitled “French Women Don’t Get Fat While Pregnant.”
When I discovered I wasn’t returning to France this week I made an evening run to the grocery store for salad and vegetables. For the last few days I’ve eaten spinach salad with diced red and yellow peppers and whole grain pasta with a sauce made of veggies sautéed in olive oil. I even bought some pomegranate juice to help with the detox.
I am in fear of my upcoming midwife appointment because, on the contrary to my doctor, she delights in pointing out my weight gain. With my first or second child (all the pregnancies are starting to run together) she asked me if I was eating McDonald’s every day. “No,” I replied. “Just a daily breakfast of brioche with Nutella.” I got an okay for brioche and a scowl for the Nutella.
With each pregnancy my weight gain has gone down significantly. With Olivia I had just moved permanently to France, quit my job as a flight attendant, and was discovering Raphael’s long work days. I was bored. I still had the American perception that pregnancy = free eating, anything and everything at anytime. I gained probably 60 pounds. (I stopped weighing myself at 8 and a half months.) I was still in my 20’s and lost all that extra weight within 6 months without exercising.
Moving along three years to baby number two. I determined not to gain so much. I changed doctors (but not midwives). At about 6 months, after my obligatory weigh-in, I got the look when I reported the reading on the scale (I round down.) – raised eyebrows. I shrugged sheepishly. He said that my weight is my concern. I’m the one who has to lose it after. I gained 45 pounds and it took one year to lose it all with exercise. Wouldn’t you know, the same month, Auriane’s one year birthday, I got pregnant again. So much for that weight loss.
With Angeline I was determined to be French. I bought my Denise Austin with the intention of doing it religiously. French women would hardly exercise during pregnancy but not having those skinny French genes, I have to do what I can to fake it. I did exercise, off and on, and managed to gain only about 30 pounds. Not bad, I thought with a pat on the back. I guess, the midwife said, for an American. This time I needed almost two years and much more exercise to lose it all. I’d give up if it weren’t for some favorite clothes in the smaller size and well, living amidst those French genes doesn’t help. Wouldn’t you know, the same month I saw my goal weight on the scale, pregnant again. Thus…Denise Austin as much as possible. I am no longer in my 20’s.
The fact that my weight gain has decreased with each pregnancy is irrelevant to my midwife. She informed me at four months that I must not have a 20 kilo, or about 45 pounds, weight gain. I’ll have her know that I recently read that Heidi Klum gained 45 pounds with each of her 4 kids. Okay, so I’m no Heidi Klum before pregnancy and can’t I compare during pregnancy. Given my mirror sighting above, apparently all that fast food has put me over the approved weight gain limit, by midwife standards.
When we told the girls they were going to have a baby brother or sister we mentioned that when my belly gets bigger they could feel the baby move. Raphael even said that sometimes we can see the outline of the baby’s foot. “Highly unlikely,” I rolled my eyes in his direction. That has never happened with any of my pregnancies. I have too much padding around the middle. That only happens to thin French women.