Well, we’re finally here, at the end of the first trimester. Peanut has managed to hang on. Hurray! We can finally tell the world. Though my belly’s already started doing that for us. On second thought, if you didn’t know me, I guess I’m still at the stage when it might be considered rude to assume anything since it does look like a normal little woman paunch.

From what I understand, I’ve been pretty lucky in terms of symptoms. I’m starting to have a few more digestion issues, but mainly the only problem is regular nausea which is however kept at bay as long as I eat something. Which leads to me to the larger single issue I’ve had thus far. I eat constantly. And if I weren’t living in Italy, I feel like this would be less of a problem. I mean, I know in North America doctors tell you to watch your weight, but at least no one else seems to care about it. Here, I swear to god, every Italian that I’ve told says the same thing: “Be careful not to gain too much weight now.” Grrr. I wish they would just back off already. Considering I even heard a story recently about a stick-thin Italian mom risking the life of her baby for not weighing enough, why can’t any of them for once tell me to make sure I eat enough? Unfortunately because of my own past fraught issues with weight, it was all really getting to me at the beginning. But I’m happy to say that, mainly with the sobering and comforting words of sane North American friends, I’ve come to be at peace with it. My body, and Peanut, are telling me what they need and when and I’m simply responding to that. I am eating healthily, making sure I get all my daily recommended nutrients, taking my pre-natals, exercising, etc. etc. So I have a few cookies and chips here and there and I’ve gained a couple more pounds than the average. What does average even mean? I think I’m doing just fine.

Update: I’m happy to report that a couple days after I wrote this post, a wonderful gentleman friend of Andrea’s family proved an exception to the above-stated rule. We were invited to his and his wife’s place for dinner and he asked me, “Allora, fai come tutte le altre o stai mangiando?” (So, are you being like all the other [Italian] women or are you eating?). I wanted to kiss him.