That would be me then. This post is another difficult one. It’s difficult to face up to and show others who I had been trying to hide it from. But who am I kidding? It’s really bloody obvious.
Some people who know me may remember me intagramming that a couple of weeks after Jack’s birth I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight, give or take a pound. Back in my size 14 jeans with just a little post-section pooch. That’s pretty much how it stayed for the entire time Jack was in NICU because even though I was just sitting in a chair all day, I was also only eating the fairly healthy packed lunch I was taking with me. I was eating as well as possible because Jack was getting my milk.
Things have changed a lot since he came home. I had immediate access to the kitchen all day every day and stopped expressing milk for Jack, due to the reasons I’ve already covered in my other posts. Suddenly, PTSD and anxiety hit big time and it no longer mattered whether I was healthy as milk was no longer a factor.
I have put on 1.5 stone since Jack was discharged which is 2 dress sizes and the largest I have even been, including pregnancy. My belly upsets me the most as it looks like I’m still pregnant. I have always had a large bum and big thighs with saddlebags so have had many years to accept them. Having a fat horrible belly makes me want to cry every time I go to the wardrobe to pick and outfit. I held back tears in the fitting rooms the other day because the size 16’s wouldn’t fit in Sainsburys and it was a shock because the 18’sI have from Asda are huge on me and fall down. The 18’s in Tesco fit nicely but I’m not sure how I feel about leaving the house in my jeggings.
At a wedding a couple of months ago, I only felt like I could attend if I wore my boned corset under my dress which is what I did. Uncomfortable? Yes but looked acceptable/normal for any photos that might get taken.
I am finding it hard to change my eating habits as I have no will power. I start on a Monday morning saying I’m going to be good then by lunchtime I’ve had a whole days worth of calories. I constantly tell myself that after everything I’ve been through that I deserve a treat. I have no control. I try to think of goal events that could act as motivation and I do have a couple but still I am stuck.
Look how hideous that is.
Then there is this whole other reasoning going on in my head that says – why should I treat my body nicely? I did treat it well, losing weight and eating well and going to the gym and it let me down when I needed it the most. During pregnancy. Why should I have anything to do with my body. It betrayed me. It betrayed my baby. It feels alien to me. It’s not mine. This belly is not mine. These boobs can’t be mine as they face the floor now and are different sizes. These bum and thighs are not mine coz they don’t fit in my old jeans.
Hubby doesn’t get to see me naked because that involves acknowledging my body. I’m crap at intimacy due to the same. I’m sorry honey. Sorry I’m not sexy anymore for you. I know you want more and deserve better.
I really hope that continued visits to the psychologist help with those thoughts. But willpower and motivation? Meal ideas that are Laura-friendly? (Anyone who knows about my lifelong food phobia type thing knows what I mean by Laura-friendly meals). Slimming World didn’t work because my diet is bread and cheese based. Counting calories worked for 6 months or so before my pregnancy which is what I need to get back into. Not really in a position to re-join the gym.
Urgh. Sorry that this post is more of a complaint rant about my horrible body. In two minds of whether to publish to be honest. But I need kind words. Support. To know I’m not alone in these feelings. Maybe someone to say they maybe hadn’t noticed or it’ not as bad as I think.
This is something I need to start sorting out now I am not as worried about Jack’s health. He’s doing well. He has a wonderful laugh and I love him so much. So now I need to change for him. For my warrior who fought to come home to me.