“They” say a lot of things about breastfeeding. “Breast is best,” and “You won’t get your period as long as you breastfeed!” I’ll be honest, the one that made me the happiest was, “You’ll lose so much weight breastfeeding!”
See, I’ve had this thing since I was young. It’s not a very nice thing. But it’s a thing that has made me obsess about my body, specifically my weight. This is a thing that has sent me to the hospital. A thing that has turned me to skin and bones, and at other times a blimp. A thing that, after years of therapy, still creeps into the back of my mind and whispers terrible things in my ear. A thing that I’ll never conquer, and can barely control. A thing that made me hate myself and how I look. A thing that can make me cry or rage when I look in a mirror or see a picture of myself. This thing? Eating disorders. Anorexia and Bulimia and Body Dysmorphic Disorder, all wrapped up together in a Monster I seem to have caged most of the time, but manages to escape on occasion. My own mental bully that has grown up with me from age 10, when my thyroid (unbeknownst to myself or my doctors) stopped working like it was supposed to. I’ve been “overweight” most of my life, “obese” according to the BMI charts, which I try to tell myself is bull shit because my mom says I have an “athletic build” and I don’t look good at what they consider a “healthy weight.” Sheesh, that’s a lot of quotation marks. Last summer, I finally figured out everything that was wrong with me. I found an exercise routine that worked, ate healthy, cut out gluten, and finally got on the right thyroid medication. In just over a month, I dropped 25 lbs, and was only 25 lbs away from my goal weight. I would have kept going, but I found out that I was pregnant with Bean. Pregnancy has been the only time I have been truly happy with my body. I managed to continue eating healthy for the most part, and it didn’t bother me to gain the 35 or so lbs I did. I did not keep a vigorous exercise routine, but Bear and I took walks all the time. I loved watching my baby bump grow in the mirror. I was grateful that I didn’t seem to gain much anywhere else. I didn’t always feel great, but I felt great about my body. I would have walked around without a shirt on at all times, if it were socially acceptable. I did miss exercising like I used to, though. I was looking forward to Bean being born and getting back into it a few weeks later, as soon as I had the go-ahead from my midwife. I imagined hitting it hard with Jillian Michael’s while Bean watched from his swing or bouncer. I wanted to be at my previous goal weight by Christmas of this year, and I just knew between breastfeeding and exercising, I’d get there. So much for that. I’m currently 4 ½ months postpartum and I still can’t even walk for too long. And I’m not talking fast-paced, supercharged power walking. I’m talking about an evening stroll through town like Bear and I used to do while I was pregnant. It hurts too much to walk for long, much less even thinking about real exercise. I can’t even do yoga for more than a few minutes. I look in the mirror and all I can see is that c-section shelf, something that I will probably always have, a flab of skin to hang over the top of my mom jeans (jk, I’ll NEVER wear mom jeans…). And the numbers on the scale, they haven’t gone down since a week after Bean’s birth. The pain, the physical pain, is still excruciating some days. Some days, it’s all I can do to cart Bean around. Chunker. It’s also frustrating. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. It’s another thing that didn’t go according to plan. And the physical pain is a constant reminder, something that I carry with my constantly, making it feel like nothing went right. It translates into emotional pain, which is excruciating, too. So, on top of the postpartum anxiety and PTSD that I am working through, the Monster comes back. Taunts me. Makes me obsessed with the numbers on the scale. Makes me justify when Bean doesn’t want to be put down so that I don’t have to make something for myself to eat. Makes me angry when I look in the mirror. Makes me avoid having my picture taken (we still don’t have a real family picture). I know I can’t live like this. I can’t keep stepping on the scale multiple times a day. I can’t keep skipping meals. I cannot obsess about my now-matronly body. And I need your help. I’m sharing this to make myself accountable to you, my reader. I’m putting away the scale. I am making an effort to plan my meals and have healthy snacks available for myself. I will tell myself, out loud, affirmations any time I look in the mirror. I will do my best to live a healthy lifestyle without obsessing about my weight or shape. This is hard. This is very, very hard. But I know that I am not the only one out there who feels like this. If you feel the same in any way, I would like to invite you to join me. Let’s take this journey together, to learn to love our bodies, stretch marks and scars and all.
13 Comments
Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:40:49 am
I love you, too! I can't wait to get together with you and your sweet boy again. It was lovely spending time with you two last week <3
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Your Sister
11/3/2014 05:18:31 am
Hi Sissy, I love you and you may not have known it but I have struggled with this as well (not to the extent you have but at least hating myself constantly) In highschool i was over 180lbs. After we left school I was proud to be down to 145 and was working on going lower. Got pregnant with Abbey and at my post partum check up I was 160 however I guess with breastfeeding I got down lower because at my first check up while pregnant with Buggy I was 150. I was glad (even though doctors told me I needed to gain more) However since her birth and me working full time sitting on my butt all day I gained back everything and more. Here I am pushing 170 again. I wanted to loose the weight but now that I am pregnant again I feel hopeless and helpless. I cry when I look at a mirror. I hate all clothing I have and dread going to work. Ive been skipping meals a lot because I don't want to come out of this pregnancy at 200lbs but I am so scared I will. I will be going back to work after the baby is born and I will have to pick between exercising or seeing my kids for the 1 hour a day I get to see them. It tears me apart every day. I don't want to be huge just because I am a mom. When I told our mom that I was planning on loosing weight she told me not to because I "look great" and losing anything would make me look "sickly" But when I look in the mirror I feel sick. Howver my problem is I eat junk all the time because I feel like it isn't even worth working towards because it will never happen. I am fat and always will be. Sorry that was really ramble-y but I just wanted to say I understand and I am here for you and if anything we can be fat moms together.
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Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:41:18 am
I love you, sisser <3
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Bre
11/3/2014 05:41:57 am
Oh sweetie. You're one of the most beautiful people I've ever met. For reals. You have the most amazing persality, skin that is flawless, gorgeous hair and an even bigger and better heart!
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Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:42:35 am
Thank you for your sweet words and encouragement! It's true... I'm trying so hard to focus on them and not how much I dislike the shape that I'm in right now. I'm so glad to have you as a friend <3
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Holli
11/3/2014 07:15:33 am
You are so brave, sweet friend! I thought I was the only one to feel this way. (Hug)
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Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:42:53 am
You are far from alone, my love <3
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Brittney George
11/3/2014 10:04:52 am
You are amongst the ranks of women who I categorize as "The Bravest Women I Know". I pray each sunrise brings a supernatural amount of strength your way. Your precious Bean needs you whole and honest and you to be you.
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Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:44:07 am
Thank you, darling! That means so much to me, I so look up to you <3
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Dara Hart
11/3/2014 10:57:57 am
Oh how I feel your words coming from my own lips.
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Mama Bear
11/5/2014 02:45:44 am
Thank you for sharing your story... you are an inspiration to me <3 I would really love to see you and your sweet little again. Shall we make that happen?
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Lara
11/6/2014 01:24:04 pm
Oh, this breaks my heart. Because I know what a "frenemy" a body can be.
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AuthorMama Bear of one Baby Bear, Bean, who both love Papa Bear, and live in a crafty, gluten-free cozy den. Archives
June 2017
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