I'm not fat, I'm pregnant

I've worked hard to get to a point where I have ok feelings about my weight. I have figured out where my weight seems to like to fall, dieting doesn't generally do much to get me below my comfy weight and it takes a while for me to get above it. I have a 5 pound range that I'm ok with. With the gradual decline of morning sickness and a fetus now the size of a "large pickle" (wierdest mental image ever!), I'm starting to creep past my 5 pound range.

Theoretically, I totally get that if you are pregnant, you will gain weight. You have to. There's another person depending on you to gain weight. Apparently though, years of conditioning to start thinking about what I'm eating once I hit that high end of my range is difficult to subvert. My husband pointed out to me that I can actually gain more than 1 pound per week, at this point, and still stay right around the 25 pound mark for weight gain. He's taken to complementing me on "showing." I'm excited about the showing, I know I'm eating fairly sensibly, but, I never thought I'd be one of "those women" who worries about getting fat when she's pregnant. The whole issue makes me hope we'll have a boy who can have problems with expressing emotion appropriately but, at least, will never wind up wondering if he should eat the whole pizza.

I am also thrilled to note that there is now enough room, as well there should be with all the creepy loosening that's been going on, to accommodate both the baby and my bladder. I can now sleep for a full 4-6 hours without having to get up. I consider this to be a major coup! This advancement has been accompanied by much catch-up sleep. I now am capable of sleep-of-the-dead, pillow face, don't shift position for 3 hour naps and still fall asleep by 10, sleep.

I'm still waiting for that energy burst that supposedly comes in the 2nd trimester but, I haven't given up hope. For now, I seem to be "nesting" or what I might refer to as an impending sense of doom. In the last several days, I've decided that if the garden doesn't get in shape in the next 3 weeks, I will never have any hope ever again. The fact that I have been relentlessly tackling the garden for the last 2 summers and still haven't actually gotten the whole thing weeded seems immaterial to my hormone driven garden blitz. Similarly, I am concerned that if the nursery doesn't get completed and all painting projects finished by July, we will forever scar our baby with paint fumes. Important to note is that the baby isn't actually due until September. As I was an overachiever in the realm of morning sickness, I seem to also be striving for great heights in the "before the baby gets here, we need to..." department as well.