Tag Archives: body

Why You Need to Stop Being Defined by a Number

I have this peach-colored, stretchy kind of shirt that had been sitting in my shirt drawer for what seemed like forever. It had been a while since I’d last worn it because it seemed to always fit the wrong way.

It hugged all of my curves, both the good ones and the ones that I would rather keep hidden. You know those unattractive back rolls? Yeah, this momma has them. One of these days I won’t have them anymore. I hope.

But, I did just spend several years in a row being pregnant constantly. As much as I tried keeping the weight off, six pregnancies in 5 years (four of them resulting in live births) don’t really give the body adequate time to recover. Throw in a couple years of severe postpartum depression, and you can imagine the impact my weight has received.

I decided to give the shirt another try. I slipped it on and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked slim. I felt beautiful. It didn’t seem to hug my curves like usual. A burst of confidence surged through me!

I got so excited and ran to the bathroom scale. I stepped on it, eager to see my apparent progress. The number that blinked back at me was not what I expected. Instead of losing, I had GAINED two pounds! No, it was not a result of working out and gaining muscle. I haven’t worked out in quite some time. I know; shame on me.

My confidence shattered and sprinkled all over the floor around me. I got off the scale and put it away, discouragement slowly filling inside me.

I stepped in front of the mirror again, and this time I didn’t see the slim woman I saw before. My curves looked awkward, and the shirt no longer seemed flattering.

defined by a number Continue reading

Yes, Virginia, there really are zits…

Time for another update! I know, I know, it’s been soooo long.

The baby is now 12 1/2 weeks, and the first trimester is almost over! Woot woot! One might think not much could possibly happen in a week’s time, but, alas, when pregnant, something new happens every day! I can’t keep up! As much as I beg and plead them, the boobs won’t let up. I’m adorning cantelopes! Now my skin has decided to go on strike. Zits are beginning to draw maps on my face. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I should play connect-the-dots. I would include a picture to demonstrate, but a close-up pimple shot isn’t the most pleasant to look at.

I had a pregnancy scare recently. For the past couple of days I’ve been experiencing Continue reading

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