Tuesday, February 22, 2011

By the numbers

I recently jumped on the scale, for the first time in months. 

Before my children, I was always trim, athletic, thin. Oh, and eating disordered. Pregnancy was a total mind fuck for a recovered/ing 'eating disorder not otherwise specified' woman. But after Isabella was born, the 32 pounds I gained fell off in three short months. Three months later I had lost an additional 20 pounds or so. Extreme stress did that to me. I wore a zero. I stopped lactating. Not awesome. 

With Bridger I gained the same 32 pounds. But three months after giving birth to a nearly 10 pound baby, plus a large placenta, I was just 10 pounds lighter than the morning my water broke. Two years later I was still 18 pounds heavier than when he was conceived. He is still as of this post breastfeeding. It did not melt off the pounds the second time around. I feel cheated.

So imagine my surprise when I discovered I am now within five pounds of my pre-Bridger weight. 12 pounds of my pre-Isabella weight. And how? Living. Loving. Eating real food. Baking from scratch. Following, more or less, Michael Pollan's advice: Eat Food. Mainly Plants. In Moderate Amounts. Having a celebratory relationship to my fuel. Daily yoga. Mindfulness.

But the truth is, my navel is a different shape. My breasts no longer stand at attention. My hips have spread. Two people grew within the confines of my abdomen. No number can change that fact. And finally, finally, I have surrendered my need for control enough for that to be ok. I am two children away from my pre-pregnancy body. And that is beautiful.


  1. i just wrote about this. we are on a synchronous wave.


    hahaha. the keyword verification to post this comment is dieter.

    very funny universe

  2. That verification is too funny. Your husband is a wise man. And the English language is crude, in so many ways.

  3. I try not to jump on the scale - which is hard because we have one now. But it's just a number. I kind of go by how my clothes fit, mainly because it's not like I can afford new ones! I wish I was at my pre-Paloma weight, but I don't think that's happening any time soon, booo.

  4. I think you're beautiful. I always have. I can still remember your first trimester with bella. You breasts were full and boyant and your buttocks took on a south american gravity defying plumpness.
    Your complexion was luminous.
    And the only person who couldn't see how breath taking you were was you.
    Still wrestling with my own body image issues. But I love you.