Yesterday I was getting ready for work. I have this collection of pants I still haven't braved to put on... well, I tried... And the victory music trailed off when I buttoned them. The dreaded "Muffin Top" appeared... Ugh! I tried to comfort myself by thinking of how long I had these J.Crew Khakis and how many times I have dried them (Clearly that dryer shrunk them...). And clearly, they were too small, but I tried to initially make it work. I put on my post-natal Belly Bandit... I felt like I had wrapped myself in cellophane and all my insides were smashed together. I felt heartburn setting in and still noticed that "bump" above my pant line. It was a much smoother version but everything just felt wrong and smashed and uncomfortable. I have had the same size pants since I was about 18. I remember when I moved out of single digits into size 10's, and I thought to myself that eventually, I would go back to being an 8 and life would be great. I wore a size 8 starting in fourth grade when I moved out of the clothes from Limited Too and braved into the Juniors world. Everyone said my clothes ran a little big but I knew what the smaller size looked like... knew how it felt... and knew that I was what I was...
So today, I realized I have to stop avoiding the inevitable. I can't keep wearing only 3-4 pairs of pants in my collection that still fit. Now that capri season is over, my pant choices especially for work were a pair of Loft pants and a pair of J.Crew light khakis that I had bought right before I got pregnant (I hadn't really dried them too much so they were roomier). Yesterday, I caved and wore my maternity pants with the elastic band all the way up to my bra. Ugh, I am 9.5 months post-natal and I put on those maternity pants and an aura of defeat lingered in my brain the rest of the night. I have to stop pretending that I am magically going to fit into some of these pants. The number on the scale has remained 164 since July. I have prioritized work, baby care and housework over weight loss. This is the price I pay for that...
I packed up the little lady and headed to Castleton Mall. The first couple stores, I couldn't even look. I couldn't even think. What size, what length... what will it look like... ? No one offered help, so I just left. Then I traveled to the Loft... "our sizes run big here so you are probably a 10 still", she said, "but I will grab a 12 just in case". I said to myself... "try on the big ones and when they are too big you will feel awesome"... Over the knees, the thighs, over the butt, buttoned just right. No bagginess, no room to grow. 12. Size 12. That's my size now? Maybe it's the cut. I look down... "Julie, our curvy fit". Damn... the other style is the skinny fit, and I am clearly not getting to go down to a 10. Despite them fitting I pressed on in the search. Maybe just maybe there will be a magical size 10 pant that fits me. Maybe?
The trusty Limited. A land of classy clothes that always make me feel rich in style and texture. I have a few Limited pants and I like them. I tell the pregnant sales woman... ugh, I need help. She kindly smiles and tells me about her pregnancy. I remember. I remember getting bigger and bigger. Fearing these moments where I realize I hit the point of no return. I am a mother now. I have those motherly hips, people comfort themselves by describing them as such. She grabs a 14 and a 12. I try my strategy again.. 14 will be too big right...? My mother wears a 14. My grandma wears a 14. But not me... I don't, do I? Over the knees up to the belly, buttoned.... Rats, I wear a 14. I double check and say, "my friends say I always buy my clothes too big, what do you think?" She said, "I don't see how those would be any too big, they fit your body really well". Woof... I am a 14. She says it's just a number. Like age, it's just a number... I am slightly crushed on the inside.
Well, I no longer have a muffin top in my dress pants. I look classy, fabulous, and am able to now wear the shirts I avoided because of my muffin fluff. So in a way I am happy because I don't feel fat in my new pants. Maybe I will cut out the tag. Part of me knows, I am still fatter than I want to be. The pants are a double edged sword: make me feel skinnier but also need to motivate me to lose that weight I've been holding on to. Maybe I will use it to motivate myself back into my old pants, and maybe part of me needs to just "get over it" and accept that my new mom body is a tad bit wider. I am active, healthy, eat good foods and I am slowly toning places. I have a lot more I could do but with starting a business, having a baby and dog, and caring for a home, I think I've hit a limit on all that I can add in. Maybe this is another leg of the journey where I accept where I am and wait for the sun to rise. I have to keep climbing but I have to also be ok that I am not at my goal.
I treated myself to a new sweater, too. I want to make it a look. I am wearing it tonight. I am about to look hot and get a few compliments. They will never know I wear a 14. It is just a number. It's just my pants size. It's just who I am right now.
Next May we go to Turks and Caicos for a friend's wedding. I know I will probably be the largest of my sorority sister friends. I am one of two of us that are moms. I am the only one with stretch marks that cover 80% of my stomach. But I am married to a wonderful man, with a great family, a wonderful home, and with my faith. I am not everything I want to be, but I have so much that I would never trade for a size 2 bikini body. I might not be skinny but I know I am still so many other wonderful things. I won't stop until I am fit again... I guess it's just taking a little longer than it does for other people. Ok... enough comforting myself. Time for work. Time to go look hot in my "right now pants". They are pretty cute even in a size 14...
No comments:
Post a Comment