I am determined to be a fit mum.

I’m about 7 months into this pregnancy and I feel totally out of shape. Before I got pregnant I was going to the gym sporadically, I was trying to take the stairs at work (I could get up six of the ten flights), I was thinking about what else I could do to feel better. After a rough summer and fall of 2008 my PCOS was rearing its ugly head and I was determined not to let it beat me again. In fact, my PCOS was probably as bad as it ever had been, which is why I was so shocked when the pregnancy test came out positive.

I still can’t really explain why I took the test that day – I was taking it to prove to myself, again, that I wasn’t pregnant, that I was diseased and I had hurt myself in such a way that it was impossible for me to get pregnant. And then I got out of the shower and saw two pink lines instead of one. I didn’t believe it until after I had taken 3 more home tests, plus the blood test at the doctor’s office. After those all came to the same conclusion, I assumed it was an ectopic pregnancy – something fairly common with PCOS – until we got our first ultrasound. And then I waited to miscarry. And then the first trimester ended, and every appointment we’ve gone to they tell us that everything is as normal as it can be. And I’m still shocked.

At the beginning of this pregnancy I felt sick and tired all the time. I stopped going to the gym, I couldn’t handle much of anything. I had a really hard time eating – I lost my desire for food because nothing tasted very good to me. I wasn’t craving anything, in fact it was almost the opposite.

Now I’m seven months along, give or take, and there is not a moment of any day when I would say that I feel good or normal. I feel weak and out of shape and generally uncomfortable. Later in the day I feel out of breath and the heartburn is enough to drive me crazy. I’ve been having problems with sciatica since very early on and my bad knees have a new companion in my hips. I can’t go anywhere quickly and I have to take a lot of breaks.

And I have about three months left and I’m only going to get bigger.

My biggest worry is not making it through the next three months – I have reorganized my maternity leave so I have some vacation before I officially go off, which should help (I am so tired by the end of the week that the weekend isn’t long enough to recover) – my biggest worry is how out of shape I’m going to be when the baby gets here.

Feeling the way I feel now, I can’t imagine carrying around a baby, I can’t imagine running on less sleep, I can’t imagine feeling this bad and having to focus on someone else all the time. Especially once the family goes away again and Joe has to go back to work.

I’m worried that I’ve started on a downward spiral that I won’t be able to get out of after our daughter arrives.

Joe and I are determined that our daughter will not go through the same struggles that we have. She will not know what Mcdonald’s tastes like, she will not complain about the taste of whole wheat bread or pasta because it will be all she knows. I am determined to introduce as many different fruits and vegetables into her diet as I can when she’s young because I don’t want her to be like me – yes, I am a picky eater.

Even before I got pregnant we talked about our kids and the choices we would make for them that we failed to make for ourselves: No pop in the house, desserts on special occasions and as a treat only, meals with the right portions of breads and meats and vegetables. And she’s going to find a sport – soccer, swimming, karate, hockey, figure skating, baseball, dancing, cricket, I don’t care – she’s going to try sports and she’s going to find something she loves and we’re going to support her in it.

She’s not going to be 28 years old and watch all these sports and dance shows and wish that at some point in her life she had tried.

Maybe I’ll even do it with her.

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