Things the Internet has Taught Me.

The internet has taught me many things.  Mainly that I inevitably have a brain tumor and how to curl my hair with a sock.  All the important things.  But I’ve also realized quite a few things about my life from Facebook and other various websites.

It all started with this:
Pregnant.  
19.  
Unwed.  
Pregnant.
And then it all began.  You can tell by the unsure look on my face that I was like, “I’m not so sure about this posting on facebook that I’m pregnant thing…”.  Probably because I knew that the people of the internet are always looking for a train wreck.
And they looked to me.  I still remember the first month after announcing I was pregnant that I got messages and texts from the most random people.  Sure, some were friends legitimately looking to see how I was doing.  The others were looking to see how incredibly messed up I was bound to be in a few months.  
“So what are you going to DO?” 
Exactly what I was going to do in 2 years anyway, marry big s, raise our kids, and live happily ever after.  Preferably in a castle. Or a tiny 2 bedroom apartment.
Whatevz.
Now I’m going to post something pretty horrifying.
You’ve been warned.

WHY.
WHY PAST PREGNANT SELF?!
I especially like the watermelon picture.  I thought I was being all clever since that was the size of the baby.  But really I just look even more uncomfortable than I was feeling.
Which is hard to achieve, because if you’ve ever been 37 weeks pregnant and put on over 70 pounds in about 9 months, you’re PRETTY uncomfortable.
Like THIS uncomfortable, where you’ll resort to babies bouncing on your belly to get the baby out.
Which is why I’m almost okay with Baby B deciding chocolate is a no-go.  I literally tried to eat a chocolate truffle and gagged.
And I love truffles.
I used to eat them for breakfast when I was trying to lose the 70 pounds I gained from being pregnant/eating everything in sight.
Let me explain my pregnant selfs mentality.  I got pregnant when I was training for a half marathon.  Then when I got pregnant, I was like “Wait, so now I’m inevitably going to gain weight, and it’s totally normal for me to get fat?!”
So I ate all the food.
All.
The.
Food.
And stopped working out.
If I could have convinced big s to carry me everywhere, I would have.
But this time I’ve learned the error of my ways.  People keep encouraging me to continue to work out.  Oh, you people of the internet do NOT want to see me get fat again.  
Neither do I, friends.
I mean, I think I had more people like my status about having horrible morning sickness with Baby B than people who liked my picture at the end of my pregnancy with little s… Thanks guys.  
You’re a real pal. 
But this story does have a happy ending, I did look like this by Halloween, about 5 months post-partum.
Yessssss. Almost normal sized.
My OB asked me at my last appointment how much weight I gained with little s.  
I shamefully whispered “uh, 70 pounds.”
My OB: What was that?
Me:  70 pounds.
OB:  Hmm? 
Me: 70 POUNDS, OKAY?! Just shame me into more morning sickness, why don’t you!?
Then I went home to search the internet.  Google search “Normal Pregnancy Weight Gain”
Top result: Melissa, don’t get fat again this time.
The rest all said between 25-35 pounds.
One said 40 pounds.
But strangely, none said 70…
I did see quite a few pregnancy forums for people like myself who put on excessive amounts of weight.  The most I saw was 120 pounds.  Which made me feel like a little like I should hide in a hole until I lose all the weight, and more like I was practically Marissa Miller.  With stretch marks.
Anyway, so my request is:
Please don’t let me get fat this time.
Keep telling me how awful I looked with little s.
And how good I’m doing at not getting fat.
M
PS: OBVS I’m not trying to lose weight.  I’m just actively trying to be much more healthy this pregnancy than the last (:
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