If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad

Despite my two-pound gain at my weekly weigh-in (I was really hoping to only gain one, but given how much I’m eating and the fact that I think my son is hitting another growth spurt in utero, I’m not about to complain), I am eating cookies like they are about to be erased from the face of the planet. It really has nothing to do with wanting something sweet, either – I have a lovely bag of grapes here with me. No, I just really want cookies.

I have been on my best behavior for most of this pregnancy. In fact, I’ll maintain that I’ve been very conscientious about what I’ve been eating, and I’ve largely stayed away from things like cookies and cakes. Well, a big part of it was because I had a major aversion to chocolate (which has abated, thank goodness), but still. Now that I’m well into my eighth month (and have been assured I won’t make it to May), it seems like my stomach and taste buds are working in collusion and sending my brain all these I-want-chocolate-cookies signals.

Baby C, of course, doesn’t seem to care, which makes me think that he really doesn’t want any cookies and that all the junk I’ve just ingested will stay with me for an eternity. But really, if it makes me happy…

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