Trena Eiden

Recently while visiting our kids in Florida, Gar, me and 7-year-old Ryder were standing by the truck after church. As we waited for everyone else to come out, we talked about where to go for lunch and decided on a favorite Mexican place. I said, “Ya know Ryder man, we should hold up a sign saying, “Need money for lunch.” He got excited and quipped, “Ya, and say, ‘Or we’ll rob you.’” I laughed, “Well alright then, we could say, “You can give happily or unhappily.” Turning to Gar, I grimaced, “Maybe our grandkids’ mothers are a little too trusting about who they let their kids hang out with.”

A Duke University study found that the energetic demands of pregnancy are comparable to, and sometimes greater than, running a marathon every day for 40 weeks. Researchers noted that pregnancy pushes the woman’s body to long-term metabolic limits, similar to long-distance runners, but over a long, long period of time. After birthing our four, I can tell you what every woman who’s birthed a baby hippo would tell you, “The closer to the end, the longer the months get” and a 26.2-mile marathon feels more like 42.195 kilometers. It’s the same length, but kilometers gives you a better idea of how a pregnant woman feels.

Pregnancy is a feat of endurance because the body is working around the clock, even while at rest, to support the growth of the developing baby. Basically, her metabolic load increases by 30%, meaning her body is working much harder even during her quiet times.

Also, for those nine months she needs 50,000 more calories than usual, but interestingly, studies have shown the mother’s body supplies the majority of this energy on its own. Those ladies are doing so much all by themselves without even knowing they’re doing it. This will continue for the rest of their lives. We try not to dwell on it.

To meet the increased demands, a mother’s blood volume rises by nearly 50%, and the heart rate increases by typically 15 beats per minute, and unlike a marathon, which is a short intense event, in comparison, pregnancy is a continuous process. The heart, lungs and metabolism stay elevated, making pregnancy one of, if not the most, sustained physical challenges the human body can experience. 

For mothers who breastfeed, it takes around 500 more calories a day to nourish that future Olympic champion. That’d be like, let’s see, a glazed donut is 200 calories, so she could eat a couple of those or a nice hunk of chocolate cake. And trust me, I’d know this information personally. Actually, when my circle of friends and I were in that chapter of our lives, we knew to eat nutritious foods, and we did, but we also laughed that we ate a carrot stick for baby and a sugar cookie for us.

Since pregnant mothers are highly encouraged to eat healthy, what does that look like? Two-hundred calories are a measly apple with 12 almonds, 2 tablespoons of Greek yogurt paired with four whole-grain crackers, a hard-boiled egg with a string cheese, or a small banana with one tablespoon of peanut butter. I eat a tablespoon of peanut butter and a string cheese while deciding what to eat. Oh, God bless those young mothers, and God bless Alyse Ogletree, who’s pumped and given the most breastmilk of anyone, almost 700 gallons donated to The Milk Bank of North Texas. She pumped around the clock, every three hours. Just thinking of it makes me tired.

A few weeks ago, we were visiting our Colorado kids, who have Garrett, 17, Dane, 13, and Quinn, 5. As we sat down to dinner, our son, Tug was on the phone with a rig. Realizing her dad wasn’t at the table, Quinn put her hand on her mom’s arm and said, “We have to wait for daddy, he’s your true love.”  Tug soon joined us and Quinn leaned over, chucked him under the chin, and said, “You’re such a cute boy.” 

A mom is a caregiver, spiritual guide, nurse, party planner, chef, psychologist, entertainer, safety monitor, and a shoulder to cry on, but as the kids grow up, a mother’s attitude changes somewhat. After eating dinner, I watched our daughter-in-law, Stephanie as she cleaned up the living room at 8 o’clock at night. I said, “Bless your heart, vacuuming at this time of day, how many Legos have you ran over?” Without mirth, she wearily murmured, “I just head for ‘em now.”