I am struggling with my body image. There. I have actually said it. I have tried to act like it is fine, but really I need to say it. Having a baby totally messed with my body. It did. seems obvious, but somehow I wasn't prepared for how hard that would be for me. A lot of the time I can tell myself that I just had a baby. I can remind myself of how great Henry is, and how my body doesn't matter. But really...it does. I mean, I wish I didn't care what I looked like, or how my clothes fit, but I do care. I hate that I cannot fit in any of my clothes. I hate that I have to feel uncomfortable when we talk about going swimming. I hate that I don't feel cute. I hate that I don't feel like myself.
I was reading Dooce the other day and she was talking about that last fifteen pounds. I know I am not alone in fighting this weight. I know it is what happens when you have a baby. Still, I am just struggling with the changes my body has gone through in the last year. My closet is full of clothes that don't fit and I really don't know if they ever will again. I want to get back to my normal size, but honestly I am just so hungry all the time. I heard all about how the weight just falls off when you are breast feeding, and here I sit weighing nearly the same as I weighted two weeks after he was born. I want to do something about it, to take control, but between working and being with Henry and keeping up with the daily life, I just don't have the energy to start counting calories too. So I go day to day telling myself it will get better, but I do nothing to make it better. I don't buy new clothes because money is tight and Henry needs things. I don't buy new clothes because I will lose the weight...someday. And I am okay...until I am not. I am okay until I have to go someplace and I have nothing to put on. I am okay until we are heading to the pool and I want to cry rather than put on a bathing suit. I am okay until I get on a scale, and although I try to tell myself it is just a number, it is honestly just a number I am struggling with.
All of this stress and worry and discomfort spilled out this weekend on my sister in law. She was on the end of a small meltdown as I told her I was just so uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't even know if I realized how much it bothered me until that moment when I said it out loud. She stepped in and took me shopping. She bought me a pair of jeans that actually fit me right (now I have two pair! When Henry spits up I can actually change my pants!) and an adorable top. She stepped in and helped me to feel like myself again. I need to come to grips with the size I am now. These clothes are not that big, and they look pretty darn cute on me. I just need to buy things that fit, and to let he weight come off as it comes off. For today, I will look cute in my new outfit. And that will help.