Beautiful Pregnosaurus
Mar 22nd, 2011
by Alexis Novak
When I imagine myself in my mind I envision my pre-kiddos’ size 6 bod, all Victoria’s Secret Catalogue chiquita lounging around in leggings and matching beige cardigan with long highlighted hair, emoting serious sexy. That was five-ish years ago. If I am honest, it has been a long time since I fit into my skinny bootcut jeans. (Actually, it’s been so long that I missed the whole stovepipe, super-skinny jean trend altogether). Today, full-length mirrors and pictures tell a scarier story and always cause me to do a double-take. Is that really me? I used to love to be photographed and now I am one of those insecure moms that jumps out of the frame when people are shooting. One of those moms who have mysteriously disappeared from the Christmas card picture. And I hate that.
When I was pregnant back to back, I called myself a Beautiful Pregnosaurus- part in awe of being able to grow a human and yet simultaneously horrified watching my body balloon to the size of a Homecoming float. I was good at being pregnant. My students told me I was a happier person pregnant and riding that hormonally-induced excitement, I celebrated by eating everything carboliscious in sight. This was the only time in my life when I could get away with insane calorie consumption and I rocked it out. But I’ve learned it’s both a blessing and a curse to give yourself permission to eat Haagen-Dazs every night sprinkled with Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, pretending that the day of reckoning will never come.
I was semi-concerned about the weight gain but every appointment I asked my doctors and they were not. I barely passed the glucose test but I was in decent health, even as a super-sized prego in my second pregnancy. I think I checked out of my body for a while as people that live mostly in their heads do. (What a glorious vacation it was!) When I finally came to though, I had a rude awakening. Nothing about my body looked familiar. And these new parts looked sad.
If I am painfully honest, my life history of yo-yo-ing has wasted more brain cells and years than I care to fully admit to. But none of that calorie-counting and scale obsessing mattered until I became the Eating Coach and Body Confidence Director of two small girls. I hate to imagine them loathing certain body parts or weighing their self-esteem before they head out for school every morning. So I have started making major changes for all of us.
Though no one else can see it yet, I know I am still super hot under here, which is the most important part. Everyone else will have to wait for my Christmas card next year.
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Written by Alexis Novak • 4 Comments
Katie Dieckhaus Tue, Mar 22, 10:39am