Monday, June 17, 2013
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.
© blogalisciousness by brie at 2:21 PM