Monday, June 17, 2013

That was a Real Butt Kicker

I got my very pregnant a$$ handed to me in therapy today.   I know that I needed it, and I've already had some time to process it and look at it a little more impartially and cool down, but in the moment, I was mad.  So was my T.  And when we're both mad, she usually is the one who ends up winning.  (Because I suck at being mad.)

Basically she got angry because even though I am gaining weight, I am not following my mealplan 100% perfectly.  Like I said, I'm not not following it enough to actually really impact my weight, but I'm still not following treatment recommendations by not doing it exactly as it has been laid out for me.

So, the T basically told me that I was setting myself up for relapse when I have Baby R, and that she was "frustrated" with me and tired of playing my "eating disorder game."

Of course, I didn't know what to say to this.  In my mind, and looking at myself in the mirror, I did not think I was in my eating disorder at all.  And so then one of those awkward stretches ensued, where she just stared at me with those killer eyes, waiting for me to say something...and I didn't know what to say... I knew she was waiting for some grand apology, or for me to quickly see the error of my ways and tell her all the ways in which I was going to make things perfect... and all of that was on the tip of my tongue to say, because when it comes right down to it, I am a people pleaser, and I really dislike when people are upset with me, especially when SHE is upset with me... but I didn't want to come across as disingenuous.

So instead, I kinda just sat there.  And thought about what she was saying.  Thought about how I really felt and what was going through my dumb old brain, instead of thinking automatically about what I "should" say to smooth out the situation, just to make things better.

And as I did that...I started to cry.  A lot.  And then I finally started talking, and I know that it was a lot more real than anything else that I would have said previously, had I not let myself sit with the feelings for a bit and mull.

I cried because I realized that I have to stop freaking fighting my body and this pregnancy and all of its changes.  I think that I keep thinking that if I just get mad at my body enough, or if I resist the changes and the weight gain that comes with a healthy pregnancy, then maybe, just maybe, none of this crappy body stuff will happen.  Maybe I'll somehow be one of those rare people who can rock a baby bump with a bikini, or not get fat anywhere else on their body, except for their burgeoning belly.  For the entire six months that I have been pregnant, do you know that I have not been okay with ONE bite of food that I have put in my mouth?  Every freaking meal, I beat the crap out of myself, telling myself that I'm so gross and awful for eating, and that I'm going to get huge, blah blah blah.  AND THAT FREAKING ISN'T FAIR TO ME, OR TO BABY R.  Getting mad at myself for gaining weight while I'm pregnant is like getting mad at the sun for shining.  It is completely out of my control; something that happens naturally and is simply not something I can change, not if I want Baby R to come out big and healthy, and as it so happens, I very much want that.

So I cried and cried, and told my T (and really, myself) that I have to stop fighting this, guys.  Guess what?  I have three months of my pregnancy left, and I'M GOING TO GAIN WEIGHT.  I'm going to get bigger.  There is simply no getting around that.  So, I can either gain the weight I'm going to gain, and maybe not love it, but accept it and let it go, or I can gain the same amount of weight anyway, and agonize over every ounce and just generally make myself miserable and upset.

Maybe that sounds like a no duh discovery, but for me, this was six long months coming.  So this is me...telling you guys (and me too) that I'm going to gain weight.  As you read my blog for the duration of my pregnancy, and as you see me post pictures of myself...guess what guys, I'm going to look bigger in them.  That's just how it is.  HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE.

Time to let go and accept that.  Time to be okay with myself.  Time to stop fighting.

I can breathe again.

11 comments:

Cait_anderson said...

You are beautiful. Pregnancy is beautiful. Rock it, girl!

Whit said...

You rock your pregnant body! I can only hope I look as sexy as you in a swimsuit when I get big!

KC said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
KC said...

This really resonates: " I cried because I realized that I have to stop freaking fighting my body."

And, you are beautiful!!

Jenn said...

so honest and real. the courage you show really helps me to continue through my own struggles. pregnancy and weight gain is hard and then to add the ed on top of it makes it something most people won't be able to understand just how truly rough it can be - but you are doing such a great job despite the struggles and it is so inspiring to see! you are a beautiful person inside and out and i hope that you will be able to truly see that in yourself because you deserve no less. keep on truckin!

Just That ZombieGrrl said...

You are strong and wonderful. I'm so glad you're doing what's right for Baby R -- and that you're such a good mum you're not willing to put this little guy in danger (directly or indirectly, by endangering yourself).

Marissa said...

Not being in control - of yourself, of the people around you, of the world - is SO. FREAKING. HARD. And I hate it. I find myself hating eating sometimes too, just because it's one more thing my body demands of me that I'm not in charge of. I hate sleeping for the same reason, and don't even get me started on my need for physical and emotional contact. It's so so hard. But I'm happy for you that you were able to cry about this, and that you're trying to change the way you think. It isn't easy, but I really think you can do it. I believe in you (sounds cheesy, I know), and I always have, and I don't think there's anything you can do to change that belief. I believe you are strong, and smart, and brave, and beautiful, and that you have enough strength to keep fighting. (And when you feel like you don't anymore, know that there are a lot of people who would love to help take some of the burden from you, if you'll let us.) Love you, Brie.

Colleen said...

I think it's great that you were able to sit with your own thoughts and come up with something to say that was genuine and real and true, rather than just spewing off a cookie cutter, people pleasing answer. That's awesome!
I've always told myself that I'd be instantly "cured" when I get pregnant, but you've really helped me realize that I need to get it together before, because pregnancy is no magical cure.
So, thank you for being honest about your struggles. I know it's hard.
Keep truckin.

The Kind Life said...

You're beautiful! Weight is only a number... :)

Maggie said...

I just got a new therapist after 10 (yes 10 OMG MY LIFE) years of working with a therapist who admittedly helped me through my ED but also stopped being helpful to me as an adult with other issues. My new therapist challenges me. A lot. and I love it and need it and also hate it a bit but its necessary.

Sia Jane said...

Please fight.
As an outsider who has followed your blog practically as long as it has been going, I have seen so much.
You have an amazing husband, and two children who are so beautiful, but more importantly, healthy and happy and loved.
You are fortunate enough to be carrying for the third time.
I know having all these things doesn't "fix" us, and I don't want it to sound like I am throwing what you have in your face, I am not.
I also know you must feel so grateful for what you have.
You have the treatment here, and this time next year, with a new bubba too, you could be way beyond this ED.
All it is doing is causing you distress and upset, and just stopping you from living a full life, all in colour with three beautiful children and a partner.
If I can do this, YOU can do this.
You can.
I believe in you.
Love Rachel xxxx