“Yomiuri Shimbun” reported on the 4th that the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare of Japan plans to launch a new version of the “Diet Guide for Pregnant Women” next month to urge those women who are thin before pregnancy to gain 10 to 15 kilograms.
It is reported that Japan’s Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare formulated the “Pregnant Women Diet Guidelines” in 2006 to guide gynecologists to help pregnant women control their weight. However, in recent years, young Japanese women have paid more and more attention to weight management, leading to the emergence of many thin pregnant women. Relevant studies have found that if the weight of pregnant women does not increase to an appropriate weight, it will have a great impact on fetal development. Such fetuses are also at higher risk of developing diabetes and high blood pressure in adulthood. For this reason, the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare decided to revise the guidelines.
According to the newly revised standards, gynecologists will urge the body mass index (BMI) before pregnancy, that is, women whose weight in kilograms/height meters 2 is less than 25, gain 10-15 kilograms. Masao Nakabayashi, director of the Maternal and Child Health Center of the Japan Mother and Child Association, said, “Women who are preparing to become pregnant should change their eating habits before pregnancy. Appropriate weight gain is essential for the health of themselves and their fetus.”
“The lady is getting up right now.” In the meantime, come to the cabinet.
“If there were no difficulties, Conchita, I would prefer to wait in the dining room.”
“Let’s see, haven’t we had breakfast yet, Don Teófilo?” Conchita burst out laughing like a girl. He had not taken the question literally; he believed he had said an insight, without suspecting that it was tormenting Theophilus.
“You are tremendous, Conchita,” Teofilo stammered, flustered.
“Treat me to you, Don Teófilo.”
Teófilo thought: «Conchita thinks I’m starving. With my look … »
—There’s more light in the dining room, Conchita.
“More light, huh?” Are you managing the lamp. Buy yourself some smoky glasses.
Teofilo thought now: He’s making fun of me. I seem ridiculous to him. That tyrannical force, indomitable to the will, which had moved him to unleash a gallant blow on the goalkeeper’s belly, was beginning to rise up and dominate him. “Who tells me to come to a prostitute’s house ? …” His brain and heart were suspended for a moment. The thread of the mental soliloquy continued: “After all, a prostitute .” After all, it was worth as much as’ even though I’m in love with her; although perhaps he falls in love with me and regenerates; although I go crazy between hopes and despair. ” And Teófilo, hurt by what he considered to be Conchita’s mockery, continued to think: «The natural, the decorous, the beautiful gestureFrom this laughable trance it would be for him to kick Conchita’s butt, so that she learns not to be shameless. ” And that aggressive, irrepressible force was already tingling up his leg. But suddenly he had the sensation of being bloodless, with empty veins, and as if the heart were a flabby and hollow thing, susceptible to being turned upside down. In spite of herself, she rephrased the ideas: “Poor thing! What fault does she have that I am poor and grotesque? ” And again, from the concrete word he descended to melt into mist and sentimental anguish. It was that he was afraid of words: afraid of revealing the truth about himself; and while his whole being, gropingly, aspired to question himself and know if he was really ap. twentyTo be grotesque, Theophilus insisted on ignoring this peremptory aspiration. He closed his eyes of consciousness just as, after a few days of hunger and a few sleepless nights, he used to close his face when he passed a mirror, for fear of seeing himself with all the traces of a consumptive finished off. Such states of mind were always linked, in the affective, to a rare tenderness and tolerance towards the wickedness of others, to a movement of love for all beings and things, and in the lines of the face they appeared as a sympathetic and puerile, as if with the gesture he said: «I forgive you that you are as you are. Forgive me that I am the way I am, because the truth is that I am not to blame. ”
-It seems like a lie! And I love you so much, Conchita … “When the contrite accent of his own words entered his ears, Teofilo was stunned and ran from having spoken as if by machine, without the help of his will.
“Let’s see, let’s see, let me find out!” Conchita put her arms akimbo, stood on the balls of her feet, stiffening her graceful torso, and tilted her head to hear better. Now it was Conchita who thought they were making fun of her.
Her portly attitude of bravery and anger was so cute and funny that Teofilo delighted in looking at her and couldn’t help smiling.
—I love you as a friend, Conchita; nothing more than as a friend. You know that the waters go the other way; apart from the fact that you already have a boyfriend.
“That’s what matters the least to you,” Conchita said with a dryness that was not hostile.
“Of course I don’t care, if you insist.” Good; now take me to the dining room.
“And hit it!” What a bore you are, Mr. Pajares!
Conchita took the poet by the hand, and running so that Teófilo was in tow, led him to the dining room.
“Do you see it?” Asked the girl, showing the disorder in the room.
The chairs were on top of each other and some on the table; the curtains, gathered on the door jambs. An old maid was sweeping.
“Do you want to stay here, Don Teófilo?”
—I see you were right; but the thing is that this little cabinet is unpleasant to me.
“Come on, if the lady hears you; she’s crazy about him.
“Concha! …” shouted a tumultuous, masculine voice from inside a room.
-What’s up? Conchita answered.
-Who’s there? Asked the voice.
“A friend of the young lady.”
And the voice:
“Is it Mr. Menistro?” By the tone it was understood that it was pronounced in capital letters.
And the voice:
“But he will be a friend of Mr. Menistro …”
-I do not know. He is a poet gentleman.
And the voice:
“What is more: Menistro or poet?”
“I’ll tell you later, as soon as I find out.” He took Teofilo by the hand again and they left the dining room.
-Who was? Teofilo asked, very surprised.
“The young lady’s father.” He was a sailor, apparently, back in the North, I don’t know where. Now he is blind.
—And, of course, as if he saw it: the father will be very happy with the life his daughter leads.
p. 22—Mine you this; as mine, if I had the luck of it. Well, go into the cabinet, I have to dress the young lady.