Monday, February 3, 2014

The Battle of the Bulge



Six years ago I found myself getting ready for my ten year high school reunion.  I was nervous, almost terrified really.  I thought about what I would wear for a week.  In high school I was thin without trying.  A size two no matter what I ate!  Ten years later…well I would tell you my size but then I would have to kill you!  Besides the nerves and the terror I was embarrassed.  Embarrassed that I had not been preserved in some sort of time capsule only to be opened up at the exact moment in time.  I was grateful for one thing.  I was pregnant.  I was not grateful for the obvious reasons; the joy of carrying a life.  No.  I was grateful that I could use my pregnancy to blame the extra weight I had gained in the decade since I had seen my classmates.  Never mind that I was barely through my first trimester and could only blame a good ten pounds I had gained on being pregnant.  Ten years and what did I have to show for it?  About fifty pounds!  And then this past weekend I found myself getting ready for a mini reunion of sorts.  I noticed something different this time.

I did not worry about what I looked like at all. 

No, I hadn’t become a supermodel overnight and miraculously fit back into those size two skirts once again. I mean I have been working out a bit; I try to run and have been doing my best to live a healthier lifestyle. 

But I noticed something…

This body has seen the world in sixteen years. 

Can I blame the extra weight around my middle on being a very busy mom who sometimes gives up and eats mac and cheese for dinner?  No.  Not blame.  I can however reflect that this is the body that carried one of the most amazing human beings I know for nine months. 

These arms that are not as slim as the arms of eighteen year old me?  Well these are the arms of someone who has held people I love, rocked someone to sleep, hugged long lost friends. 

These shoulders are shoulders that have been there for people to cry on. 

These wrinkles around my eyes tell the story of a million laughs in sixteen years.

We need to stop beating ourselves up over what we look like.  Now I am not concerned about my extra weight as much as I am concerned about not having the stamina to keep up with a very active little boy.  I eat healthier not to starve myself, but to make better nutrition choices in the hopes that my son will follow suit. Will I lose weight by exercising and making better food choices?  Of course.  Am I going to labor over a scale and worry that it doesn’t show the same number it did sixteen years ago?  Not anymore.  Because sixteen years ago there was a whole world I didn’t have.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

6 comments:

  1. Well written too. It's amazing how our little ones change our lives.

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  2. Thank you! And since you are both such avid readers, your comments made my day!

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  3. Thank you... I needed to hear that.

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  4. Absolutely AWESOME blog post! I'm teared up....THIS is what I talk about when you and I have our sessions. It is NOT about a number, YOU are an amazing, awesome woman that has produced (with the help of your hubby of course) one of the most charismatic little boys I've ever met. Making healthier choices and working out is because you LOVE your body, not hate it. Beautifully written...love you!

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