Every time I speak to my mother-in-law the first question after she asks me how I am is “so, how much weight did you gain so far?” This isn’t your typical catty-woman question. That’s not why she is asking it. She is Ukranian, and Ukranian women are supposed to have a little bit of meat. They’re not crazy like us Americans. A little bit of meat means your healthy. Plus, if you think about it, a country where you had to stand on line for rationed toilet paper means that you most likely didn’t let a lot of things, especially food, go to waste.
So, on Friday, I was happy to report to her that I have gained a total of 8lb. so far. She was happy and I was happy, because I know I’m supposed to be gaining weight, but I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that my former devil-Dani self wasn’t nagging at me in the back of my head a little bit. That little putrid voice that tells me, however irrationally, that I can’t gain an ounce of weight ever. Even if there’s a baby inside of me. It’s just not allowed. It’s not according to the “rules”. The rules I so strictly lived my life by for so many years. And then the fear sets in…
I have to remind myself that these arbitrary rules I once put into place are no more real than an imaginary friend. I’m growing a baby – of course I need to gain weight. Of course it’s ok. Of course it’s healthy and expected. Nevertheless though, I still get that twinge of fear – what if I end up gaining way more than is healthy. What if I get out of control and start bingeing again? What if I can’t lose it after this little girl is born?
And then, that’s exactly what snaps me back to reality – those three amazing words… “this little girl”. Actually, it’s not just a little girl, it’s my little girl, and I would never want her to have this kind of voice in her head. I didn’t work so hard to overcome my eating and body image issues so that she could see me loathing myself because being pregnant with her made me gain weight. I never want her to model me constantly looking in the mirror to see where the fat settled, feeling depressed when I get dressed in the morning because I hate how everything looks on me, or obsessively counting calories all day because I have to look a certain way.
My little girl is never going to grow up with a Mommy like that. No, she is going to learn that happiness doesn’t come from a number on the scale or the compliments of other people. It comes from being ok and loving who you are. So, today, as I leave you, I am fully acknowledging the fact that I gained 8lb. and it is ok.