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Easier Said Than Done

This post is mostly a rant/winge and a pep talk for myself. It's honestly pretty boring, so don't feel obligated to slog through it. Trigger warning for food-talk and depression.

Two points to make clear before we begin:

1. I don't think there's any such thing as 'bad' food. Food has no moral standing. It is food.
2. This isn't about weight. Full stop.

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I feel like rubbish.

Why? Well, aside from the ongoing SPD/PGP saga throughout this pregnancy, I feel like rubbish because my eating habits have been rubbish. Simple carbohydrates were my saving grace throughout the rough seas of the first trimester when the mere suggestion of anything else made me gag. Knowing how utterly addictive simple carbs and refined sugar are for me, the necessary survival tactic has carried on into my second trimester long after morning sickness subsided. I've always been open about my long and hard battle with my past toxic relationship with food. From adolescence onward, it's safe to say I've explored every unsafe nook and cranny when it comes to eating. It wasn't until my mid 20s that I finally figured things out. Unfortunately, the demands of pregnancy and the inescapable changes that come with it can be seriously triggering for anyone who has ever struggled with food.

Now, let me clarify that I don't think there's anything wrong with eating whatever you enjoy. I don't demonise any kind of food. We need food to live and eating is one of the great joys of life. The problem here is that overloading on refined carbs has always disagreed with my body. I wish I could live off of bread and chocolate, but my gut and pancreas scream 'NO!'

I've slipped into the cycle of making all sorts of excuses to myself to allow me to ignore my body's protest: I'm pregnant, so it's ok to relax! It's not THAT much! I eat really well MOST of the time! But, the reality is that I'm a bit of a hedonist who easily loses control when it comes to food to soothe my anxiety and ADD. Be that as it may, surpassing my personal sugar limit never fails to make me feel bad, and it's time for me to state loudly and clearly to myself that I do feel bad. Not guilty-bad, but physically bad.

It's true that my diet is shiningly balanced most of the time - that's not a fib. I genuinely enjoy fruit, veg, interesting salads (Israeil through and through), the gamut of fats (I probably eat avocado every day like a true generational cliche), and a variety of protein. So why do I sabotage my own overall well being with an unnecessary nutritional imbalance that ultimately makes me feel awful? There are a multitude of factors that compound and snowball. In this instance, it's been a combination of getting sloppy after a difficult first trimester, and looking for a quick fix for the depression I've fallen into being off work with SPD. I'll be the first to admit that I eat my feelings. That quick hit of the reward response after a sugar binge is powerful. But it doesn't last and it makes things worse.

So! What's a bored, depressed pregnant lady with poor coping mechanisms to do? What's my plan? I'm picking up old hobbies, planning for the future, and setting goals.

My short-term goals include writing more - here and elsewhere - and I've returned to YouTube. I loved vlogging before I started my nursing degree but let my channel die and stay dead even after I graduated. Unfortunately exercise beyond hydrotherapy (which has been AMAZING) and short, gentle walks is currently out of the question. I just have to keep my excitement about resuming exercise after the baby is born fresh. I really miss jogging. Again, my love for exercise has never been about weight for me. Keeping a regular exercise regimen has been key to managing chronic depression and insomnia.

I also need to stop feeling sorry for myself about being off work. I'm doing absolutely everything I possibly can to keep things from getting worse with my pelvis and there's no point in beating myself up for something totally out of my control. Keeping in touch with colleague friends and maintaining regular study of nursing journals will carry me through this, through maternity leave, and keep me as sharp as possible for my return to work next year. Punishing myself with put-downs and food that makes me feel sick is not the way to go.

Hopefully addressing the above underlying issues weighing me down will light the fire under my bum that I need to toss the sugar crutch, for my sake and the baby's sake. Gestational diabetes is the last thing I need right now. My goal here is to eat the foods that serve me and the baby well to my satisfaction and to learn how to say no to anything damaging. I don't need it, despite what my poor habits have made me believe. I'll be fine. I just need to snap myself out of this rut.

End rant.

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