Okay, so I have no doubt...I am definitely preggers (as if the 2 blood tests last week, 1 home urine test and one hospital urine test weren't enough).
I have had the biggest mother of an appetite for about a week or so. So big that I'm afraid of what I'm going to look like in 8 months. Now don't get the wrong idea about me, I am DEFINITELY not the type of person who says "I'm eating for two", and then wolfs down half a carton of ice cream. I've never been much of an eater, and I try to be pretty healthy about what I do eat. And during my pregnancy I plan on being even more particular. But I can't tell you how difficult it's been. I'm gonna get really open here with you all. Pre-preggs, I weighed 108 pounds, and after this past few days? I don't even know, because I'm too afraid to step on the scale.
Sunday during church, I couldn't even concentrate on what the pastor was saying. All I could think of was how much I was dying for a huge, fat, juicy steak. (?!) I am not a huge fan of red meat, I usually prefer chicken and fish. But apparently? Not anymore. I called BFF Robin and begged her to come to our favorite Mexican restaurant for their SCRUMPTIOUS steak fajitas. Fortunately she was up for it, because I was prepared to go out to eat by myself if I had to (Husby works on the weekends, so he wasn't an option). Before the skillet was practically put down on the table, I snatched a slice of the steak and just stuffed it in my mouth. NO concern for the fact that I had just burnt my fingers and tongue, or that I was in public eating with my fingers. ME. WANT. MEAT. arrgaghghhghagh. (gross sound of me scarfing down food like a cave woman.)
And it doesn't stop there. Yesterday I don't know what came over me. My body just kept saying "EAT!!!" So for breakfast I ate a homemade egg sandwich, then for lunch I made a grilled turkey, cheese, tomato, lettuce, pickle, horseradish (?) and ranch (?) sandwich. Then about 3 hours later, I was, you guessed it, hungry again. So I had a small bit of yogurt with granola. Then I went to the gym. And ran my a$$ off because I am DETERMINED NOT TO GAIN A ZILLION POUNDS. Then I had to go to my neice's Christmas Band Recital, where I knew I would die if I didn't have a snack, so I ate some crackers with cheese, more yogurt, and a few baby tomatoes (I was in a big hurry). Apparently it wasn't enough, because by the end of the "concert", I was ready to stop at a drive thru. Don't worry, I didn't. I went straight home and to bed, determined to try and fall asleep before I became so hungry that I couldn't avoid eating.
No such luck.
Flipping through the channels I saw this guy on that female President show eating a fatty burger, talking with his mouthful. And it looked sooooo good. My stomach even made a gurgle noise.
Determined NOT to give in to my hunger, I found a particularly graphic Law and Order that I hoped would gross me out.
Again, no luck.
So I drank an entire 32 ounce bottle of water without stopping, thinking "sometimes people think they're hungry when they're really thirsty."
Um, yeah. I wasn't thirsty.
It had been a whopping 2 hours since I'd last eaten, but it honestly felt like it had been 2 days.
I held off all the way until 10 pm, when Jeff came home. He gave me a kiss, and I practically ate his head. Okay, not really. But an hour later I could have.
Me: "Babe, I am SO STARVING RIGHT NOW. Can you get me something to eat? Please? It's so cold in here, I don't want to get out of bed, but I'm really dying. Pleeeeeease. I don't care what it is, as long as it's substantial. Like, Hamburger substantial."
Jeff: Looking at me like an alien has inhabited my body, "Holy cow! It's after 10 at night. Wow...okay...umm...what do you want?"
Me: Feeling like an alien really did inhabit my body with an evil intent to make me gain 300 pounds. "I don't care. Whatever. As long as it doesn't take more than 3 minutes in the microwave. I really don't know if I'm going to make it. Please--hurry."
Jeff: Takes off running to the kitchen. Not so much because he wants to get me food, but because he's afraid I'm going to eat him if he stays any longer.
Me: Yells after him "Remember--SUBSTANTIAL!"
After the longest 8 minutes of my life, Jeff finally comes back with a broccoli and cheese stuffed Chicken Bake It's stuffed, breaded chicken, about the size of an elongated burger, and worth probably 80 grams of protein. Normally I eat half of one. This time? I inhaled the entire thing. It didn't matter to me that the chicken was chewy because it was cooked in the microwave instead of the toaster oven. Jeff was in such shock at me that he stood at the side of our bed and watched me eat it like I was a lion eating its kill on the Discovery Channel or something. Later he told me he was watching and listening. I was literally making this breathy inhaling noise with every bite. My dad walks by and peeks his head in. When he sees me chowing down, in bed, he has to watch too. I felt like I was in some weird chicken eating contest and they were my audience. But I didn't care. I was going to eat, and whoever wanted to watch could watch, as long as they didn't ask for a bite.
Once I finished, I washed it down with the glass of milk Jeff brought, and was finally comfortably satisfied. I settled in under the covers and thought about the fact that I should probably brush my teeth again, because nothing is worse than sour milk with herbs breath. But I just couldn't get myself out of bed. Then the 32 oz of water hit my bladder and gave me no choice but to get up and head for the bathroom anyway.
The kicker to this whole story? Jeff told me later that it was a turn-on to see me eat like that, knowing I was "feeding our baby".
And I thought I was weird.