The 20 Pound Difference

For someone who doesn’t weigh myself often, I sure bring up those numbers a lot. I’ve had more doctor appointments than I can count related to this whole TTC business, so I’m acutely aware of my weight and fluctuations right now. And I think as much as I try to heal fully from my disordered past with body image and eating, there will always be an element of trouble there. That’s not some admission of weakness, it’s just truth -- and it’s one that a lot of people experience. I’ve accepted that it's how I deal with my feelings and thoughts related to this issue that's the important difference.

I’ve been sitting at 140 pounds for a while now -- seven months. I had been around 130 in the summer and for a few years after having Ada. Closer to 120-125 before getting pregnant. So, in the last four years, I’ve actually gained 20 pounds overall. Two zero. Weight is just a number, after all, but it is still hard for me to see the scale continue to climb.

At 120, I was definitely thin. Not overly so, like when I was down well below 110 in my worst days of my disorder, but I was definitely working at it . . . hard. I’d eat “clean” one hundred percent of the time. I’d run, do yoga, spinning, walk during work breaks, and basically move my body all day long. My metabolism was young and spritely. I had lots of time on my hands. I had a lot of motivation to work out. Racing was my favorite pastime, and I look back on how I was constantly running (literally and figuratively) and feel absolutely exhausted. Irony? I still never felt great about my body.

I had trouble adjusting to my “new normal” of 130 pounds simply because it was this invisible threshold I had crossed in my head. I remember thinking to myself in my early stages of healing that “as long as I stayed below 130,” I’d be OK with myself -- how awful! In other words, I was healed from the physical damage I did to my body in my teens and early 20s -- the binging, the purging, the skipping meals -- but the psychological was still catching up.


I also had trouble because most of my friends (real life and otherwise) seemed to return to their before-baby weights after not terribly long and without herculean effort. Breastfeeding did wonders for many of my friends and family, and I think it made me retain weight. I PRed at races and was eating better than ever, so it didn’t matter. I stuck with it for 17 months and wouldn’t change a thing.

After a while, I gave up the mission of getting myself “back” and was able to accept love my new mama body. I actually did reach this milestone, and it was an amazing accomplishment for me.

Then the TTC struggles began.


It wasn’t bad the first several months of trying, but after the chemical in September and then weird symptoms ever since, I decided to drastically cut back on working out. Honestly? I also felt quite paralyzed and borderline depressed about my new health problems, which is no secret to anyone including myself. The weight came on rather quickly like I hadn’t experienced before. My pants got tighter, and I even exchanged most for the next size up. But overall? There’s not some gigantic difference in how I look or feel.

It’s just that stupid number on the scale . . .

I’ve come to the conclusion that we all go through stuff in life ranging from major to minor. My last year (more like two) has been one for the record books. And our bodies go along for the ride. They’re often a symptom of what we’re experiencing. All I can do is be good to myself at whatever size I’m sporting on any given day. I’m exercising consistently and eating good foods, and my goal right now has nothing to do with shrinking back into a size 4 or shaving minutes off my half marathon PR. I’ll continue to treat my body -- whatever its size -- the right way. I’ll continue to keep my internal chatter positive and encouraging. It’s the best I can do.

Twenty pounds is nothing stacked up against the weight of all the difficult stuff I’ve made it through these last few years. And I know my size and my perception will continue to change and evolve as the years go on and on. It’s keeping my mind running smoothly and feeding and honoring my body that’s important.

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