I sat down at my desk and cried this morning. Not ugly-cry sobbing, just those tears that silently creep up on you and suddenly they're rolling down your face and you can't stop it. Never even saw it coming, but there I was weeping on the phone to Steph 5 minutes later.
Pregnancy has been a lot harder than I expected, but not in the traditional ways. For me it's been more mentally and emotionally taxing than anything else. I'm going to label it "fat girl PTSD" which would be funny-sounding if it weren't so tragically true.
In the beginning I envisioned myself continuing with business as usual. I would burpee my way right through the next 9 months, stopping only to give birth and jump right back into the swing of things. THIS pregnancy was going to be done right.
Unfortunately my body had other plans. The first trimester was scary and exhaustive and my doctor and I had to make the decision to put all forms of working out on hold until further notice. It was a really tough pill to swallow, but I knew that if something had happened I would have always wondered if I could have prevented it.
The next two months I mostly sat on my ass. There's really no other way to describe it. Some days were good, some days were depressing, I mostly just looked like I was letting myself go instead of being pregnant. All the while I prayed to make it another week without any issues and eventually days and weeks turned into a month and another good ultrasound and suddenly I was free again!
The past 3 weeks I've been working my way back into a physical routine, walking and jogging, doing crossfit solo at a lower scale just a few days a week, maintaining good eating habits. Feeling like ME again. But there's a problem--I'm 20 weeks pregnant.
Everything is fucking harder when you're pregnant. My boobs are gigantic. Like 2 sizes bigger. Wtf anyway, they were already big enough so this is just ridiculous. And my body is pumping what like, 50% more blood than before? So I can't catch my breath like ever. And I pee my pants when I least expect it. And there's a baby in my uterus and even though it actually took longer than I expected for him to pop out (my core was stronger than I EVER realized), the belly is now there and it ain't going away. No amount of "sucking it in" that will change this. I assure you. Sigh.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being pregnant. I am so thankful for this opportunity because I love sustaining another life and feeling him move and knowing that I get to share a child with the person I love more than anything in the world. I love that our kids are all going to be connected by this new little person and that they're SO excited for a new sibling.
But I used to weigh almost 300 lbs once, and for the better part of 4 years I've maintained a high degree of control over my body. Not. Anymore. Not in the way I'm used to anyhow. It's scary for a former fat chick/current control freak when I know how hard I worked to not be "big," to now feel that it's out of my hands. I know it's just for a short period, and the end TOTALLY justifies the means, but it's a very real struggle and today it got the better of me.