I am self conscious about my size and weight. I’m not sure
why. The more weight I loose, the more self conscious I am of my body. In high
school, I weighed 130 my senior year and I starved myself to get there. I
remember being light headed and weak. I knew it wasn’t good. I hit college,
started drinking a beer a day and quickly packed on the Freshman 15. Senior year, I met
hubby, he started cooking for me and I pout on a few more pounds. We got
engaged, and decided to start the Subway diet (yes, we walked to Subway once a
day and split a foot long veggie on wheat, no cheese, regular mustard, with
everything except jalapenos), which worked. I never weighed myself at that
time, but I felt good. We then went on our honeymoon and ate like kings and the
weight slipped on. A year and a half in, we decided to have a baby. The day
before my emergency c-section with L, I weighed 209 pounds at my doctor
appointment. I know I was pregnant, I know I was on bed rest due to the end
stages of toxemia and later found out that I had
HELLP syndrome,
I know that 30 pounds was water weight. But that damn scale read 209!!! It took
me over a year to get down to my pre-pregnancy weight. Remember that was not my
best weight due to the previous events. I then got pregnant with N. I didn’t
put on as much weight with him. I think I weighed in the upper 180’s. I never
broke 190. After N, I nursed him longer and the pounds dripped off. I hit my
pre-pregnancy weight quicker, but that was still 150. I wasn’t happy with who I
was. I felt fat and ugly.
Fast-forward four years. Living in the ATL, over 3,000 miles
from family, I was sick as a dog. My
bicornuate uterus had fought me long enough and it was winning. I had SEVERE menstrual cramps
that couldn’t be controlled by any pill. I wasn’t a candidate for ablation or an
IUD. I saw doctors who told me that I was imagining it. I saw doctors that told
me I had GI issues. Finally I found a doctor that listened to me, saw that I
had a poor quality of life and made a change for me. That doctor ignored my age
(30), and performed a partial hysterectomy. The minute the doctor agreed to the
surgery, I started walking to get into shape for the big day. I would pull the
boys (a combined weight of 85+ pounds) every day after preschool in the wagon.
I told them that if momma got into shape before the surgery, my recovery would
be quicker. I was right. The doctor performed my surgery the day before
Thanksgiving. By the beginning of February, I started running. I fell head over
heels in love! Those last 15-20 pounds came off quickly. I felt good. I looked
good. I found that elusive runner’s high. I haven’t stopped running.
My current weight varies between 133-135. I wear a size 6,
sometimes a size 4. I am now half the size of my pre-surgery self. I am strong
and healthy. I could lose 10 more pounds. I still have flab; I still have love
handles. I have stretch marks and loose skin up the wazzu! I am even more
self-conscious today than I was two years ago when I started running. Why? I
look the best I have EVER looked. Maybe it is my age? Maybe it is the loose
skin? I should wear my stretch
marks and loose skin as a badge of honor. They are battle wounds of the war
that I fought and won. I don’t. I hate that I don’t.
Yesterday I saw
a picture of Anne Hathaway.
The online magazine was bragging, “See Anne Hathaway’s Skinny Bikini Body”. The
short article wrote about how she is eating 500 calories a day and exercising 2
hours a day. I know that this is extremely unhealthy and she is hurting her
body but when I looked at the picture, I smiled. She has cellulite. I am glad.
She’s human just like me! If she is eating that little and working out that
much and she looks like that, I can be proud of me as I am and for who I am!
I’m working on it. After all, I’m just human!