I’m slipping again into old behaviors, especially falling asleep to the fantasy that I’ll wake up with all of the baby weight completely gone. I used to do that when I first found myself struggling with disordered eating. I’d pray and pray so hard for God to take away my fat in the night the way sick folks pray for a bad fever to break or a tumor to disappear: A miracle.
I am not stupid. I have a logical mind. I know that being healthy means acting healthy and that things don’t happen by wishing. But when you struggle with an eating disorder, the logic of things has a tendency to disappear and if you don’t want to be stuck with thoughts of self-loathing and fear and anxiety, you start wishing.
I’ve been in recovery a long time – years. I made it through my pregnancy healthy and strong, with only the slightest twinges of annoyance that my pants no longer fit or that I had only three things in the world that fit me (maternity clothes are expensive). I told myself that my new weight was for the baby, and it got me through because it was true.
And it’s true now, still. Because my weight is still for my baby. I need it to make milk. My body is holding on to some because it needs energy to make food for my son. I get it. Logic.
But I hate it. I’m uncomfortable and I don’t feel like myself. I fight the urge to count my calories and self-loathing for not walking around outside because it was finally a beautiful day. I wasn’t perfect. I might have lost those battles today.
I want to keep fighting, and I will. I’m not surrendering the war. But even the bravest soldiers get fatigued and annoyed and frustrated and scared that maybe their luck will give out.
I’m asking for your prayers tonight, friends, because when I think of motherhood and parenting I want to think of unconditional love and peace, not about anxiety and worry and weight.
I want to stop wishing. I want to keep living – really living, in freedom.
Thank you. 🙂
Anxiety over Pregnancy Weight Gain (Mallory Hood)
More than a Number (video)