Feelings on being pregnant
Jul. 13th, 2009 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
norsegirlPregnancy to me is very much a means to and end. I'm not one of these women who really enjoys each and every little kick as a bonding experience. Heck, when you get right down to it I'm not really that in to the whole baby thing. I'm looking forward to a little person who can talk, and learn, and play with us. It's not that I'll actively dislike the baby experience I don't think, it's just that I'm definitely more jazzed about the next stage, and while I can find other people's kids age 3 and up kind of interesting, I'm not the least bit interested in other people's babies or toddlers.
Getting back to the pregnancy thing... I'm getting the impression that this is a little like being obese. Granted it's all in one spot, so I'm sure there are more ways that being obese sucks, and of course the fact that it's obviously a pregnancy saves me from the external emotional effects of strangers being rude, but it's still enough of an inconvenience that I wonder how the massively obese let themselves get this way and it's having an effect on my psyche. If I had a choice, I'd put an end to this immediately, like if it was a weight problem and not a "having a baby, this comes with the territory" kind of thing. And I want to be clear, this is not like being a little bit heavy, or a bit above average or the "healthy BMI", I am freaking massive.
It's the little things that are really damn difficult.
Tying my shoes is a fucking ordeal. I seem to be able to reach the right foot okay, but for some reason the left is a bitch. In a few weeks I may just decide to shun anything that isn't a slide-on or just say fuck it to shoes entirely. I can't put them on standing up. And getting up and down from a seated position, either on a chair or on the ground is awkward as all hell.
Shaving my legs is another thing that sucks in a massive way. I might go and get waxed in a week or two so I can give that up for the last month as well. And don't even get me started on how hard it is to cut my toe nails.
Personal hygiene is becoming an issue for me. Other than in the mirror I haven't seen my girl bits in weeks. A few weeks ago Jason was kind and supportive enough to trim all my hair down there. I hate when it gets all jungly and I'm normally meticulous about maintaining myself, but not being able to see what I'm doing makes me really hesitant to be waving scissors around. I don't like to shave because then it grows back in and that's itchy. I'm not sure about waxing there, that sounds like more pain than I want to get in to. Jason will probably have to trim me again before this is done at least once. I hate that I am no longer able to do this for myself but I really, really can't bear to let myself go.
Reaching things is also virtually impossible. I can't get close enough to the counters to reach even the second shelf of some of my cupboards. I'm getting very tired of having to ask Jason to get things for me or dragging a step-stool around.
And then there's my concept of personal space. I taught a class this weekend and kept almost getting whacked because I was standing too close to my students because I don't yet have a real idea of where I end. It's like when you start driving a bigger car and you don't know where all the corners are or how far out the bumpers go. Other people also seem to have a problem with this because I don't look "fat" from the neck up, but I'm taking up a lot of real estate around the waist. On the holiday weekend a cop pushing past me in a doorway almost took my belly off with his walkie talkie and hardly even muttered a "sorry" as I was standing there in agony having just been thumped in a sensitive spot with something hard and with corners. I also can't squeeze through spaces I normally can. It's taking some getting used to the idea that sucking in has no effect at all. I have to search for larger parking spaces so I can open the door enough to get clearance and I have to be really careful about how I park the car in the garage so I'm not too close to the wall. Having to shift my knowledge of what part of my is largest is also strange. You know how cats use their whiskers to know if they'll fit through a space. In the past the largest part was around my hips, so if I could get my butt past, I was good. My belly is soooooo much larger than my bum now. And worst of all, I used to be smaller if I tried to squeeze through sideways (hips from front view were wider than belly + bum). I'm not entirely sure which way is larger now, but the belly is definitely more sensitive if it gets squished or thumped and my instinct is betraying me by thinking I'm still smaller in that dimension.
It also gets in the way when I try to lift or move thing or put stuff on my lap. I've dropped my laptop a lot this week because I just don't have the space on my lap. And I keep dropping things on myself when I eat because I can't get close enough to the table or the plate, so it's inevitable that something is going to fall off the fork en-route. Picking up boxes or bulky but light things is hard. Moving the outdoor furniture with Jason a few weeks ago was virtually impossible and I had to walk sideways the whole time because I couldn't even grab it in front of me.
Finally, there's the reduced stamina. I can't walk as far or as fast. I can't run after my dogs in the park (I tried, I made it like 5 steps before I had to admit defeat). Walking up the stairs requires effort. I can't take the steps 2 at a time like I normally do because I can't lift my legs that high, they run into my stomach. Not that I'd have the energy to 2-stair it.
I imagine these experiences are similar to what one would experience being obese and it's having a major effect on my mental well-being. I feel fat and useless and dependent. All in all, I can do this because it's a limited-time thing with a definite end-date in sight. But if this was just a slow decline you can bet I'd be doing everything in my power to fight it off. Having this extra bulk is just so damned inconvenient and not at all conducive to independence, which is something I value very highly.
And that is why there are very few pictures of me pregnant. I feel fat and useless. And please don't come out with any of the "you're pregnant and beautiful" baloney. It would be like telling an anorexic girl that she's skinny enough. What you say and how I feel are not related, and what you say isn't going to have an effect on how I feel. You saying it just makes me feel awkward because yeah, duh, I know I'm not fat, I just feel that way. I won't run from a camera, so if I happen to be out somewhere doing the tourist thing and end up in a picture that's fine. I've had pics taken when my sister visited and again when my parents visited. But I am not setting up a photo session just to capture my hugeness, so please don't ask.
Having gotten all that off my chest I think I'm off to putter around the house on some project before I get too large to be able to reach it.
Getting back to the pregnancy thing... I'm getting the impression that this is a little like being obese. Granted it's all in one spot, so I'm sure there are more ways that being obese sucks, and of course the fact that it's obviously a pregnancy saves me from the external emotional effects of strangers being rude, but it's still enough of an inconvenience that I wonder how the massively obese let themselves get this way and it's having an effect on my psyche. If I had a choice, I'd put an end to this immediately, like if it was a weight problem and not a "having a baby, this comes with the territory" kind of thing. And I want to be clear, this is not like being a little bit heavy, or a bit above average or the "healthy BMI", I am freaking massive.
It's the little things that are really damn difficult.
Tying my shoes is a fucking ordeal. I seem to be able to reach the right foot okay, but for some reason the left is a bitch. In a few weeks I may just decide to shun anything that isn't a slide-on or just say fuck it to shoes entirely. I can't put them on standing up. And getting up and down from a seated position, either on a chair or on the ground is awkward as all hell.
Shaving my legs is another thing that sucks in a massive way. I might go and get waxed in a week or two so I can give that up for the last month as well. And don't even get me started on how hard it is to cut my toe nails.
Personal hygiene is becoming an issue for me. Other than in the mirror I haven't seen my girl bits in weeks. A few weeks ago Jason was kind and supportive enough to trim all my hair down there. I hate when it gets all jungly and I'm normally meticulous about maintaining myself, but not being able to see what I'm doing makes me really hesitant to be waving scissors around. I don't like to shave because then it grows back in and that's itchy. I'm not sure about waxing there, that sounds like more pain than I want to get in to. Jason will probably have to trim me again before this is done at least once. I hate that I am no longer able to do this for myself but I really, really can't bear to let myself go.
Reaching things is also virtually impossible. I can't get close enough to the counters to reach even the second shelf of some of my cupboards. I'm getting very tired of having to ask Jason to get things for me or dragging a step-stool around.
And then there's my concept of personal space. I taught a class this weekend and kept almost getting whacked because I was standing too close to my students because I don't yet have a real idea of where I end. It's like when you start driving a bigger car and you don't know where all the corners are or how far out the bumpers go. Other people also seem to have a problem with this because I don't look "fat" from the neck up, but I'm taking up a lot of real estate around the waist. On the holiday weekend a cop pushing past me in a doorway almost took my belly off with his walkie talkie and hardly even muttered a "sorry" as I was standing there in agony having just been thumped in a sensitive spot with something hard and with corners. I also can't squeeze through spaces I normally can. It's taking some getting used to the idea that sucking in has no effect at all. I have to search for larger parking spaces so I can open the door enough to get clearance and I have to be really careful about how I park the car in the garage so I'm not too close to the wall. Having to shift my knowledge of what part of my is largest is also strange. You know how cats use their whiskers to know if they'll fit through a space. In the past the largest part was around my hips, so if I could get my butt past, I was good. My belly is soooooo much larger than my bum now. And worst of all, I used to be smaller if I tried to squeeze through sideways (hips from front view were wider than belly + bum). I'm not entirely sure which way is larger now, but the belly is definitely more sensitive if it gets squished or thumped and my instinct is betraying me by thinking I'm still smaller in that dimension.
It also gets in the way when I try to lift or move thing or put stuff on my lap. I've dropped my laptop a lot this week because I just don't have the space on my lap. And I keep dropping things on myself when I eat because I can't get close enough to the table or the plate, so it's inevitable that something is going to fall off the fork en-route. Picking up boxes or bulky but light things is hard. Moving the outdoor furniture with Jason a few weeks ago was virtually impossible and I had to walk sideways the whole time because I couldn't even grab it in front of me.
Finally, there's the reduced stamina. I can't walk as far or as fast. I can't run after my dogs in the park (I tried, I made it like 5 steps before I had to admit defeat). Walking up the stairs requires effort. I can't take the steps 2 at a time like I normally do because I can't lift my legs that high, they run into my stomach. Not that I'd have the energy to 2-stair it.
I imagine these experiences are similar to what one would experience being obese and it's having a major effect on my mental well-being. I feel fat and useless and dependent. All in all, I can do this because it's a limited-time thing with a definite end-date in sight. But if this was just a slow decline you can bet I'd be doing everything in my power to fight it off. Having this extra bulk is just so damned inconvenient and not at all conducive to independence, which is something I value very highly.
And that is why there are very few pictures of me pregnant. I feel fat and useless. And please don't come out with any of the "you're pregnant and beautiful" baloney. It would be like telling an anorexic girl that she's skinny enough. What you say and how I feel are not related, and what you say isn't going to have an effect on how I feel. You saying it just makes me feel awkward because yeah, duh, I know I'm not fat, I just feel that way. I won't run from a camera, so if I happen to be out somewhere doing the tourist thing and end up in a picture that's fine. I've had pics taken when my sister visited and again when my parents visited. But I am not setting up a photo session just to capture my hugeness, so please don't ask.
Having gotten all that off my chest I think I'm off to putter around the house on some project before I get too large to be able to reach it.
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-13 10:30 pm (UTC)You'll also find that your energy comes more in fits and starts (I did a crazy-long walkabout a few days before I went into labour), but you're right that the endurance isn't what it was, & it takes a while postpartum to build back. Even still, it's not forever.
You will be fine. Hang in there, respect your limits and otherwise proceed as normal.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 04:17 am (UTC)I used to think I worried about my weight out of vanity. But now, having to some degree experienced the other side, any future weight-worries are going to be much more closely linked to health and activity than to whether or not my favourite pair of jeans fit.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 03:59 pm (UTC)Well, if you don't understand it, you have two possibilities: continue throwing up your hands and judging, or, alternatively, check your privilege and consider the possibility that the vast majority of those people aren't *choosing* anything, and that the fact that you're skinny and I'm fat has little to do with the difference in what we respectively stuff in our mouths.
::shrugs::
no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 07:18 pm (UTC)I've put on about 20lbs, but it is entirely focused on my tummy. I haven't put on any weight anywhere else, not even anywhere else around my middle. If we pretend this was general weight gain, not pregnancy weight gain, it would probably take about 100lbs or more of weight gain to get this much extra bulk in front of me. I have a hard time believing that being almost double my high-end of healthy normal weight is something that can be caused be genes alone. Sure, there's a set point that we all have where our bodies like to be. Some of us are naturally super-models, and some of us are the average American, and it's unlikely that the heavier people are ever going to become super model size no matter how hard they try. But I have a hard time believing anyone's set point is up in that dangerously large category where you can't do anything for yourself and it takes 5 firemen to take you to the hospital on a stretcher when they decide on an intervention.
I'm not talking about the difference between wearing a bikini or a mumu to the beach, I'm talking about the difference between going to the beach and not being able to because you can't fit behind the steering wheel any more (and I am getting close to that point because my legs are so damn short).
no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 07:51 pm (UTC)I'm also, for the record, not far from the largest size you can buy a good sports bra for, and it costs $80, which should give you at least one factor that makes it hard as hell for larger women to do any exercise more strenuous than a slow meander. My daughter, for the record, is going to get a high quality sports bra no matter what it costs, because I spent my teenage years not developing physical activity levels because 36D boobs at 16 fucking hurt when you don't have a proper sports bra.
That said..
One of the articles I pointed you to contains the core of how "those people" get like that.. they "diet their way up the scale". Dieters fuck up their metabolism something fierce. So they lose 20 pounds, but then they gain back 30 when they stop starving themselves. Then they lose another 20 but gain back 25.. it's a vicious circle, and it starts for many people in their teen years (my cousin, for example, started cycle-dieting in middle school and when she got pregnant at 22, gained 65 pounds because her metabolism was FUBAR). 3/4 of people gain back more weight than they lost, because, frankly, starvation level diets are not long term strategies, but they're the only thing that's going to maintain the weight loss past about 5 years.
And, for the morbidly obese every pound you put on makes exercising harder, not just because clothes you can reasonably exercise in are only made up to a certain size (leaving aside the boob issue, if all you can wear is a mumu, how are you supposed to walk 2 miles in that without incapacitating yourself from chafing?), but also because you're ashamed to leave your house, let alone leave your house to exercise because overweight people get laughed at for exercising and shit on for not exercising.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 10:33 pm (UTC)Yes, but I'm also guessing that they were several inches shorter than you. Ignoring the BMI calculation, you're above average height, you should be above average weight too, so yeah, you might be heavier than some people on the weight loss shows. A lot of super models weigh more than I do but look WAY skinnier and wear WAY smaller clothes (and have ribs sticking out and other disturbing looking things) again because of the height thing. It's all relative. And they're finding out BMI isn't a good measure of anything anyway. You look fine and you seem healthy enough to me.
I hear you on the sports bra thing. This is the first time in my life that I've had to wear one and it is damned annoying. I've been blessed up to now and didn't realize it. As for sports-bra-free activities (or an exercise that will create less bounce) try roller skating. It's pretty strenuous and yet not bouncy. We had a lot of larger girls in roller derby and they seemed to like it well enough.
Yeah, I know about that one too. One of the girls I used to do derby with told me about how uncomfortable it was for her to skate in the park with us one day when it was just her and I. People who laugh are douchebags. I always get inspired when I see heavy people out running because if they can do it, what's my excuse? I get how hard it is for them, both physically and emotionally, and am seriously impressed to see them out there. Honestly, I think that is how the majority feels, but people don't express encouragement as often as say a gaggle of teenage boys will be assholes and snicker. There's also the issue that I think people who are feeling insecure may misinterpret it when we express encouragement. One of the first times Brigit went running she almost gave up because people kept saying things to her and she thought it was weird, and the first time I went I thought so too, but my running-club Dad explained that runners always say something encouraging when they pass each other. It's nothing to do with the person receiving the remark, it's that the person giving it says that (or something similar) to every runner that they pass, it's part of the brotherhood of running or something. Runners are odd ducks.