Oi vey, aye carumba! My how we've changed in a year. (When I say "we" I mean "me"). The top photo was taken in July 2009. The second photo is July 2010.
Today has been a rough day for personal body image. Over the last week or so I've been painfully aware of my body whether it be because my cellulite seems to be creeping lower and lower down my thighs or because contractions and cramping are popping in to say "hi" (I'd rather they call ahead. Dropping by without warning is just plain rude). Not to mention walking, sitting, standing, and laying are uncomfortable due to stretching ligaments.
That being said, today I had an appointment with the midwife. Usually they are three lovely ladies (and they really are lovely) helping out the preggo princesses but today there was one. The other two were on vacation and jury duty respectively. This meant hanging out for an hour in the stuffy waiting room on uncomfortable chairs with stretching ligaments and then another hour waiting in a little room with florescent lights with stretching ligaments. Thank goodness Ms. Kelse (my incredibly patient sister) was there or else I might have caved into my impatient preg-motions.
Eventually the midwife (I've never met with this one before. Word in the nurses corner was that she is the "big boss" that came in for reinforcement) came in to listen to the baby's heartbeat and take her measurements. She was nice enough but one of those people that spoke to you at a very close interval. So close that it takes you aback and any questions or comments you previously were hanging onto go hide in the tongue dispenser jar. Perhaps that was her strategy to effectively see all of the patients today. "By invading their personal space they'll forget the questions and it will cut each visit's time length in half..." I keed, I keed. She was very patient and in no way did I feel rushed but it was definitely a little uncomfortable speaking with someone nose to nose.
When I raised my shirt and lowered my increda-elasta-pants she commented, "Those are quite the stretch marks you have going on there". Oh dear. Not exactly what a 38 week'er is longing to hear. Trying to maybe glean some advice from the situation I asked her if she had any inside advice for getting rid of them. "If I had the answer to that, I'd be rich! Just kidding. They will fade over time though." Uhm. DEFINITELY not what a 38 week'er is longing to hear. Especially considering that she is a woman who looks at preg bellies all day long and felt the need to comment on the stretch marks I had dancing across mine.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at the lady. It's just that the experience was not exactly a mood lifter.
After the appointment I came home and decided to put the stretch marks out of my mind and do some labor research. Labor has been something I've been reading about but deathly afraid to revisit the birthing videos I'd watched 4 months into pregnancy. Tonight I decided to tackle that fear and watch them again because I feel as if now that I know more about the process, watching it isn't as scary. This proved to be very true and I was able to make it through and calm some birthing fears. However, something I noticed while watching these videos was that the ladies were remarkably stretch mark free. Shit. Guess the stretch mark experience today didn't get put quite as far out of mind as I originally thought.
Finally I was weeding through all of my preg e-mails and I saw this little tool for a pregnancy weight gain tracker. Now why I thought it was a good idea to follow the link, I have no idea. It wasn't, it isn't, I will never do it again (or maybe I went back and did it several other times with fictional numbers, whatever). Turns out I've gained 52 lbs instead of the 46 lbs I had originally thought.
You may think 6 lbs, big difference. Uhm, it is actually a HUGE difference. Going from 40 to 46 isn't so bad, but hitting a new 10's bracket is absolutely devastating. Especially if you were a fat kid growing up. (I was).
Certain members of my family were brutal about it. There was the grandparent that would comment on my two chins or say things like "ohh, Jessie you looked skinny in that picture" and then there was the step-mom that despised anything overweight. She made her distaste for me known while I went through my fat awkward stage and loved everything about my cute little sister. Once I grew out of my awkward fat phase and into a slimmer more adult look my sister entered her and the distaste shifted from me to my sister. After speaking and knowing her years later I came to realize that she is simply one of those people that dislikes anything overweight whether it was my sister and I, the neighbor, her new husband, and even herself when she'd packed on a couple of extra pounds.
At one point I recall my mom even telling me that she felt like a failure every time she looked at me because of my weight. The point is that from a young age I have always been extremely aware of those numbers on the scale.
Moving to NYC really helped open up the tunnel vision I'd previously had about my body and my college room buds rubbed off me in a very positive way. They were beautiful girls of three varying shapes that each had an electric confidence about them. Through them I was able to learn that it wasn't the body that mattered but ultimately health and inner fulfillment that makes us beautiful.
The pregnancy weight however has really thrown me for a loop. Suddenly that sexy confident girl I've known in myself over the last 6 years all of the sudden feels like an overweight twelve year old girl wrapped in a towel hanging out by the fence at the public pool hoping and praying that her plain black bathing suit will magically hide the 20 or 30 lbs the other twelve year old girls don't have.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE and can't wait for Miss Mela to get here. The extra pounds are a very small sacrifice for the little miracle that she is. However, this is the post where I take off my "mommy" perspective hat and I replace it with my "Jessie" perspective hat. I am a mother, a sister, and above all, a woman. Weight is something all of us ladies deal with, no?
So ladies. That is my body confession for the eve.
Alright ladies time to fess up. How much weight did you gain during pregnancy, how did you get it off, and how long did it take you? Also I wanna hear from you non-moms out there! Have you gone through a significant weight gain? How are you have you overcome it or how are you actively overcoming it?
P.S. While uploading the photo seen at the top of this post I ran across this one:
Final, final, final thought? My heart just melted and she is totally worth it. The stretch marks, the weight gain. This just snapped everything back into perspective. (Although next pregnancy I'll go easy on the trips to local Bar-B-Q joint T-Bone Toms).
