Eating for Three: A Blessing or a Curse?

Last night, Andy and I went to Quaker State in Williamsville for dinner, since we both craved those famous burgers and wings! It was definitely worth the wait on a Saturday night. I indulged in a huge cheeseburger, fries and six of their mild Buffalo wings. After all, I'm eating for three, right? The boys were dancing with delight! And even though I probably ate a little too much, I didn't regret it.

Right away, that is.

Afterward, we went to see "Paul Blart, Mall Cop" (which was cute, by the way,) at the Regal just behind the restaurant. I sat uncomfortably through the movie, shifting my weight to ease the burden on my already-expanding tummy. I could just feel the grease oozing its way through my body. But the idea of getting "comfortable" has dramatically changed since I got pregnant. I straightened my posture and then leaned forward, shifting the pain from one part of my body to another. I tried crossing my legs, but quickly gave that up. I leaned on the empty seat next to me just so my stomach could have ample room to digest all of the food I had just ingested. But since the taste of those Buffalo wings lingered on my tongue, I still didn't regret it.

When we got home, I layed down. Still, no comfort. The boys were obviously enjoying the flavor from my dinner and were doing somersaults to show their appreciation. Both of them. One was jumping on my bladder and the other was digging his toes at my ribcage. At this point, I couldn't tell the difference between the babies' movements and gas pains. I propped my numerous pillows in their usual spaces and got up when I had to, just to alleviate the strain and empty my bladder.

Overall, I got very little sleep. I woke up very tired, but definitely still full from the night before.

What did I learn from this experience? Eating like that might not be the best thing for me, even if I am eating for three. Maybe next time, I'll skip the fries and the wings and just go with the burger. Or even a salad.

Maybe.