The universe is doing a really good job of throwing my own stuff in my face.
A dear friend who taught me how to radically accept myself at age 18 and 250 pounds is spending a month reflecting on her body not being an apology. I wake each morning eager to read about what battle she is targeting today. Rubbing thighs, back fat, she is singing my song as I silently read her words wishing for her bravery.
The woman who just started working out at my gym this month is just a few weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy. She climbs walls and really squats (with her butt below her knees!) and I was secretly wishing it was her first pregnancy and she was going to balloon. Then we spoke. She has 4 children. This is her 5th.
My OB-GYN has told me 10 pounds. This entire growing a human things should look like a max of ten pounds on my body. Ten pounds came and went 2 weeks ago.
These rules about what this body is supposed to do and look like and how it's allowed to grow and how it should really shrink are once again becoming the loudest noises in my life.
They've always been loud. On my best days I tell them to shove it and listen to the music that is this beautiful life I am in. On my worst days I repeat the lies. I own them. I believe them.
I have been sorry for my body since the 2nd grade. I have fought it, blamed it, and hated it. A friend once told me that she was afraid of not loosing the weight and someday getting pregnant because no one would be able to tell she was pregnant.
That fear has rooted in my own heart. Make sure they know you're pregnant and not just gaining weight.
Because, obviously, the worst thing in the world I could be is fat.
I will most likely not grow another human again. This is my last experience doing one of the raddest things my body can do. Some women know how often the baby kicks and exactly where they are stretching and what hurts. I am too worried about what the scale will say tomorrow, how much dinner I've eaten, and if I look fat and not pregnant to enjoy the rad stuff.
I'm pretty freaking fed up with myself.
This body birthed an awesome little girl. She isn't worried about what she looks like when people are taking pictures at swim class, but I can't seem to make eye contact with anything while in a swim suit.
Does she notice? Is she picking up on it? Of course she is. I'm lying to myself when I think she isn't absorbing my body issues.
I have an OB appointment tomorrow and we find our the gender of this little human inside of me.
Stoked. That's what I should be.
You know what I am? Scared. I don't want to hear the lecture about weight gain that I may or may not get and because of that I am already at the point of tears today. I am worried about something that may or may not happen depending on the mood that some doctor is in when they see me.
Seriously? If you were me saying this to me I would give you the sit down. I'd feed you a piece of cake, tell you that our bodies are AMAZING and that they will do what they will do and inform you it's time to get amped about your ultrasound tomorrow. You are growing a human. That is amazing. You have friends that would kill to grow a human inside of them and would gain 100 pounds if it meant getting this gift.
When what we believe about others doesn't apply to ourselves there is some real reconciliation that needs to happen.
I would say I need to get it together for AG but really, I need to get it together for myself. I deserve more than a life where the loudest voice in my head is concerned with a number on a scale.
I am growing a human here.
