Tuesday, November 24, 2009

the right size


This weekend, we made a trip out to the mall - mostly because we just wanted to wander and join the Christmas throngs, but also because I'm in dire need of skirts that fit. I found a sale going on at one of the department stores so I grabbed some to try on. I was met with extreme disappointment. Nothing fit. The size I had to go up to in order to fit into one was a size that I'd never worn before. I almost cried. And I think that is mostly because I've been working so hard - I thought surely something would fit. Suddenly, I felt like all my efforts were pointless. I suddenly regretted all of the chocolate I hadn't eaten.

The next morning, as I dressed my sweet baby girl, I realized the ironies of our lives: she's four and a half months old and the majority of her clothes are sized for 12 months (and up). And I realized that if she actually possessed the ability to realize that she's bigger than the other girls her age, this is not something I would point out. I would pray that she didn't understand or see the difference. I would never encourage her to slim down to a six month onesie. She's beautiful, big or not. She will always be perfect and beautiful to me, no matter her size.

Like many of you, I struggle with my body image; I always have. Cue the completely insane running I used to do (until my knees started buckling and my Achilles tendon just stopped allowing it). But I want to have Belle's mindset, oblivious and clueless as to what the world - or the percentiles - say she should be. I want to be happy with my size like she is - guzzling bottles, gnawing on apples slices - happy with these hips that are never going to be the same. I want to embrace the idea that the number on the tag doesn't matter - it's more about inner beauty, about loving myself regardless of the baby weight. I want to be encouraged by my daily efforts, by my relentless rolling out of bed in the morning to complete a work out that my body barely has energy to do.

And so today, thanks to my sweet baby girl who is big and beautiful, I resolve to be better. I resolve to stop sulking and start smiling. And I'm going to try to accept this post baby body, grateful that it had the capacity to be a pregnant body in the first place. After all, if I didn't have a post baby body, I wouldn't have my Belle.

And of course, as always, she is worth it. Worth it all.


Miss Annabelle, 4 1/2 months old, 12 month old clothes.

6 comments:

Kathy said...

I get it. And totally relate.
Keep working out because it keeps you strong and healthy to care for Belle and Jess...plus, it's great therapy and alone time. :) At least those are the reasons I work out.
Also, she is only 4 1/2 months old. It took you almost 10 months to put the weight on and for your hips to spread. Give yourself a break. And, I'm not sure if you are nursing or not, but I am one of those people that can't really drop weight until I stop nursing. So I have to be patient for a while more here...
Plus, elastic waisted skirts are totally underrated...comfy, with no definitive size on the tag. :)

It will come off; you may not wear the same size again, but you'll find your new you and new groove and it will be beautiful.

Riss said...

I get to see her in 3 weeks!!!!!!!!!

The Harrises said...

Well said, especially before Thanksgiving. I will eat more pie now and love it!

TysonandMarthaGerber said...

I could not agree more. The sad thing is that our society always says were are not perfect. It's "losing the baby weight" "losing the marriage weight" "Losing those pesky 5 lbs" .... My sister watches the Biggest Losers and applauds any little changes. You are trying to be healthier for your sweet baby, not for the world.

Kirsti said...

I truly understand your angst, Shauntel -- I felt thin and beautiful before getting pregnant, and now I refuse to go shopping for clothes at all. (I was secretly relieved when I got pregnant again, though now it means I'll have two babies' worth of weight to lose in a few months.) Being in a ward with so many thin beauties (who don't seem to gain baby weight at all!) doesn't help, either. I think I'll try to make this resolution with you; I can't imagine the pain and guilt I would feel if my own body image issues were passed down to a daughter.

In a moment of irony, the "word verification" under this comment box is currently "probodi."

The Isoms said...

She's not alone! Lucas is right there with her.
I cried a lot after Logan was born because my hips widened and I have never been able to get into the clothes I wore before I had him, nor any of my shirts because after nursing my girls didn't go down either!
Oh the joys of being a mommy!

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