I'm just human

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!