What Size Are You?
That conversation would go something like this:
Random person: What size do you wear?
Leggings are glorious. They’re even more glorious when you’re at that awkward post pregnancy stage where you’re too big for your clothes but too small for maternity clothes. And I might have eaten my feelings while we were in Virginia and they tasted great. Now? Not so much. And it’s something that probably won’t change until I’m done being a quasi successful milk maker. I’m working on being okay with that.
And it’s not an uncommon thing. I’ve read a lot and chatted with a lot of women. Only a minority said they were able to lose weight while nursing. The others were frustrated that it’s “common knowledge” that you are supposed to lose all this weight while nursing. Then you come to find that for some women not only is nursing exhausting, you don’t lose weight while you do it.
So I will do what I can do, which is make healthier choices and not hate myself for the choices I made that led me to this place.
So, once again I will wait.
That doesn’t make it easier to live in a body that feels so very foreign. I see myself there, somewhere, beneath the spit up and fancy leggings.
I’ll come up for air eventually.
Even now when I’m feeling anxiety about the body that I have, I am reminded that this is a season. It will change. Patience has never been my strongest trait. Yet He gives me grace. He has such patience with me when I have none for myself.
The early days and the sleepiness of raising babies gives way to birthdays and big kids. It happens slowly, moment by moment. And yet so quickly that every birthday is almost unexpected. How could they be so big already?
So I will wait. I will pause. Because they won’t.