by Mandy Crum

Created on: June 18, 2008

I love food.
There. I said it.
Before I got pregnant (at the time of this writing I'm eight months along and the Kentucky heat has given me sausage fingers, making it hard to type; please forgive any spelling errors), I would have been slightly mortified at the idea of anyone knowing about my insatiable love affair with Wendy's double cheeseburgers; it's just not ladylike to gorge oneself on fast food, especially while the world is in the grip of this horrifying "thin" fad. I know, I know, Thin has been In since Twiggy was around, but I still maintain the belief that someday it will become fashionable again to look like a WOMAN and not like a pencil with hair.

That's not to say that I was overweight pre-fetus. Well, okay, maybe my thighs could have used some help, and maybe the old gut was starting to edge towards muffin-top status...but it was nothing a little exercise couldn't take care of. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it, anyway. My point is, I have always been able to exert some control over my willpower, no matter how strong my cravings got for Taco Bell at eleven p.m...it's how I've managed to stay "curvy" and not "fat".

However.

Pregnancy has changed all that.

Now, not only do the cravings for fast food and chocolate set into my brain, they do it with claws and grappling hooks. I can no more ignore them than I can touch my toes (something I haven't been able to do for about three months now), and it makes me wonder about the validity of that old belief that cravings come from the body's need for certain things. I mean, lard has always been my favorite food group, but how much of it can my system need to sustain itself? Are there hidden vitamins in french fry grease? Do Toblerone bars contain minerals that my baby requires to grow a healthy immune system? Someone should really look into this.

To add insult to injury, I found out at twenty-eight weeks of pregnancy that I had gestational diabetes.

Seriously? I thought when I heard the news. What kind of cosmic joke is this? My body, while growing and nurturing this amazing life, has suddenly turned traitor on me! Now I can have all the cravings I want but I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THEM! No more mashed potatoes, pasta, brownies, fries, white bread...none of the things I love, in other words. And, perhaps the biggest hit of all to my Southern heart-no more sweet tea.

Okay. Deep breath. This is a tough subject for me. Asking me to choose between leafy green vegetables and a double cheeseburger is like...well,

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