Ah, I really thought I could convince myself that being ‘big’ after pregnancy would be okay. Boy, was I wrong. I hate it, hate it, hate it. Then again, this could be my mood talking. That’s a different topic though.
I went through a very rough pregnancy as mentioned in my previous blogs posts, even post pregnancy posted many a challenge, including me having spinal fluid leakage – which was further worsened by 2 failed blood patches and baby getting severe eczema. So, being ‘larger than life’, in my personal opinion put a damper on everything. Yeah I joked about being fat, but it wasn’t funny. It still isn’t funny.
I was advised to be more relaxed about losing weight (after I spent quite a bit of money on Herbalife), give myself 3 months or so and then tackle it more aggressively. Yeah that’s great, but what do I do now? What do I do about accepting being this big? I don’t have an issue with larger people, don’t get me wrong. I have been a size 40 a few times in my life, so I know how it feels. Some days I feel great, and I wake up in a good mood- and that’s when I think I’m being delusional. Do you know how I know I’m being delusional? When I walk past something, like a mirror on the wall and my thigh brushes against it. In my mind I knew I was NOT walking that close to it. Even when I turn around and my butt knocks something off the table- what the hell? I know I’m not being delusional about being delusional. Usually after those incidents, I feel fat and depressed and my day is ruined.
Ah, I have so many more examples. These are the best ones:
After I decided to be ‘happy’ with my weight (happy is a very strong word), I decided to go shopping for work clothes as I need to look professional and just plain presentable. I checked out a skinny mannequin and liked the pants I saw it was wearing. I then went to the rail where I saw the pants and one of the consultants came up to me and told “the size 38’s and 40’s are that side”, and pointed just further away from the mannequins. Thing is, I wasn’t even at the skinny sizes, I was at the ‘medium-size’ range, and the size I thought I was, i.e. 36. My ego, she was bruised. Then still in the same store I went to check out some new bras. I asked the consultant, again for 34/36 and she looked at me and handed me a size 38- “Here’s your size ma’am.” Just there and there I was over it and we left the store with a pair of earrings. At least that fit.
So, taking a stand and telling myself that hey, being this big isn’t bad, backfired, because:
a) I didn’t know I was bigger than I imagined
b) In theory this was okay, practically it sucks having to squeeze in everything and having a stomach that shakes because of the c-section cut
c) I forgot I’m not a very patient person
d) Celebrities post-pregnancy skinny bodies, even though I hate to say it, really works on my damn nerves. And yes, I’m jealous. Sue me. Actually, don’t sue me.
I’ll probably be moaning about my body for another 6months or so. Don’t mind me. One good thing is, I’m no longer in denial- still just suffering from being delusional about what will fit and what won’t.
P.S I wish I could laugh my ass off- it needs some re-shaping.