I've had a happy turn in my pregnancy. After months of exhausting myself by trying to eat right, exercise and stay busy I've found a doctor who truly understands my needs. She took one look at me and ordered me to stay in bed until my side hurt. At that point I was to transfer to the bath until my feet were sore and pruney. Then I am to transfer back to the bed and repeat the process until bedtime.
She validated my hesitation to buy maternity clothes. After all, if you have to dress like a whale, you probably shouldn't be traumatizing the public with your girth. So if nothing fits, you don't have to leave the house. She then handed me two pairs of sweat pants and a cheap cotton kimono as the standard uniform for the remainder of my pregnancy.
My doctor ordered me to pull the blinds, take the phone off the hook and ignore the knocking at the front door. As an extra motivator to stay locked inside, she suggested I pull a mean scowl every time I walk by a mirror to remind myself I am unfit for public consumption. If someone really needs to get ahold of me she assured me they'd have the fire department come and hack open the door. She then reinforced my front door with steel to give me a few extra minutes of solitude when they inevitably come with their axes.
She ordered the main source of my depression, the scale, to be removed. As most good shrinks would tell you "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." My scale learned this lesson the hard way and we cut off all communication. I feel our relationship has improved drastically since the silent treatment went into effect and have considered adding it back onto my Christmas card list.
As far as my diet, Dr. Me supplied me with a box full of chocolate calcium chews, jello pudding packs, fresh pineapple slices and frozen burritos with directions to mix and match as I see fit for every meal. For a special energizer mid-day there is always the bag of white chocolate chips which she gave directions to "apply liberally."
When I expressed my concerns to my doctor about taking care of my toddler she assured me that it is actually good for small children to have "quiet alone time" and that any effects said child would suffer from neglect during my third trimester could be overcome by supplying her with her own steady stream of white chocolate chips. Upon application, this too proves true. Pixie has never been happier.
What I can't understand is how this doctor gained so much wisdom about pregnancy when she herself has never been to med school, doesn't have a license to practice or even own a stethoscope. She assured me that her common practice was to do everything exactly opposite of what conventional doctors would suggest and her method has been comforting expectant mothers world wide. Who am I to argue? I've never been happier! Thanks a million, Dr. Me!