When I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I think I was most excited for my feeding frenzy. I’d be able to eat whatever I wanted without worrying about getting fat. Or rather, when I did get fat, I’d have a pretty good excuse for it.
I dreamed of nights filled with mint chocolate chip ice cream, days of chips and dip, dinners of thick juicy steaks and lots and lots of mashed potatoes. I’d start out eating for three, just in case I had twins in there. And once I found out for sure I didn’t, maybe I’d cut down just a wee bit.