...of hell.
That's what every day seems to be. A new version of the same hell I am in.
As if life is not awful right now...I have ONE pair of jeans that fits me. One. And wouldn't you know it? It's early maternity. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound. So the pair of jeans gets worn and washed, day in and day out.
When I went to Philadelphia with John yesterday for his business trip, I put my best foot forward and went looking for clothes.
I gained 47 pounds when I was pregnant. I only started at 97. Before you keep reading, please don't grumble about how I was teeny tiny in the first place and the size I am now still is amazing. I realize I was small before. I realize I have always been blessed with my size. I KNOW this and have always been grateful for it. But gaining half my body weight was a MAJOR deal for me. Major.
I've lost nearly 30 pounds already--and I really couldn't care less about how much left I have. I'd be fine if I stayed this weight the rest of my life. It's not the weight--it's the redistribution. And that is NOT something I can change--hips and ribs spread during pregnancy, and they change the body shape.
So when looking for clothes, I really didn't mind so much that I went from a 0 to a 6 (YES--I KNOW A SIX IS STILL SMALL....but think about the CHANGE for me)....after all, I just had a baby.
I just figured that when looking for things to fit the 'new' me, I'd have the baby with me. It would be worth it and I wouldn't care.
Nope. Empty dressing room and the only one crying was me.
When John and I went to grab lunch, there were babies/toddlers everywhere. Everywhere. And again, as I said, these are obviously not Matthew...but today, they were reminders that I didn't have my baby with me. I sat down with John to eat and thought I was going to throw up because I was so sickened. I couldn't swallow for the lump in my throat.
And my favorite? As if trying to find something to wear wasn't enough struggle, walking by Carter's and Gymboree and The Children's Place and Janie and Jack was torture. Just torture.
I SHOULD BE IN THOSE STORES.
I SHOULD HAVE MY SON WITH ME.
THIS SHOULD NOT BE MY LIFE.
And it's not. Instead, it's my own version of hell. Every day, though, it seems I find a new dimension to the same hell I've been in for the last 6 weeks.
That's all. It's just hell.
Dear Lori, this is just a double dose of in-your-face misery. I'm so sorry. Lifting you up in prayer both specifically and in general. I wonder what God's answer will look like? Hoping that tomorrow is even just a little bit better than today...
ReplyDeleteOh, Lori. This so resonates with me. I remember at Oliver's memorial I had a friend's wife tell me I was "lucky" I had lost the weight so fast and looked so good. "Lucky"? I had a lot of gratitude for what I had in my life but I just couldn't feel lucky for how I looked. I looked like the bereft mother who left the hospital alone to me. And my body had changed, Oliver had changed me, and that was both good and bad and something her shallow comments weren't going to change. I still need a new wardrobe but I haven't been able to go shopping. I bought my husband lots of clothes instead.
ReplyDeleteI refused to go out for a long time. And, I refused to wear my maternity pants, yet didn't want to wear my before Ella pants, either. So, I wore sweats for a really long time. Hang in there!
ReplyDeleteI was in the waiting room at a hospital/outpatient area yesterday waiting to get called in to get some bloodwork done (just routine physical stuff) and they played that little lullaby they do when a baby is born. It just hit me so hard. I felt so ripped off. Why do they have to play it. The parents of the newborn are so happy, they could probably care less if they heard it. I think it causes more pain for those who are childless/suffer the loss of a child than it does bring happiness to the parents who just had the baby.
ReplyDeleteSometimes the mirror is the most horrible weapon there is. I know you want to shout to the world, "Don't you know my son is gone??! Stop!" And it's so painful when it doesn't.
ReplyDeleteLove you girl. Always.
Oh Lori, I do understand! I truly do. I am tiny too and I have been unable to shed my baby weight this time. It is insane! With Gwennie I lost all my baby weight and more. Now with Henry, I have been unable to shift the weight and it is like a cruel joke. I wonder if it isn't something to do with stress?
ReplyDeleteI am thinking about you and sending you a really big hug.
Sarah xoxo
I understand, and I am so sorry. I gained 45 pounds in my pregnany, and since I was on bed rest for a really long time, it has been hard to lose. I've lost about 20-25 of it (depending on the time of day), but it is definitely distributed differently. I was also always small - my average weight was about 110. I was at 120 when I got pregnant, so I was already 10 pounds heavier than my "usual". Anyway, it really is hard - even now I have very few things that fit me.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry this was so painful. My heart still hurts for you both. I'd be happy to be a shopping buddy next time if you need some distraction.
ReplyDeleteMel