Something happened to me today. A woman I see several times a week asked me when my baby is due. I don’t know how she didn’t get the memo about what happened, but I’ve been thinking this whole time that I don’t look pregnant anymore, or at the very least, I don’t look like I’m getting more pregnant. Apparently I’ve been wrong. Apparently, despite the fact that I’ve now lost 11 pounds, I still look six months pregnant. Ugh.

I know she just wasn’t thinking. I know time flies, and she probably didn’t realize it’s been three months since I told her I was expecting. I know she just didn’t take the time to put two and two together to figure out that things aren’t how they ought to be. I know she’s had her own problems and worries, and that what is the most enormous thing in the world to me is not so crucial to her. I know all of that, but it was still discouraging.

She just kept looking at me like she didn’t believe me – not like shocked disbelief that something horrible had happened, but like she thought I was lying to her about having lost my baby. Or like maybe I was never pregnant in the first place. I don’t know which, but it really seemed like she thought I was putting her on. What kind of sick person would that make me?

The whole thing made me immensely frustrated because I’ve made such positive changes in my lifestyle, which have resulted in me feeling a lot better most days. I still have sad days and sad moments, but for the most part, I feel SO much better about myself, my body, and my choices. And with one stupid question, this woman made me doubt all of it. One question brought all my sadness back up and made me really discouraged about my weight in spite of the progress I’ve made. One question made me want to come home, cancel my plans for the afternoon, put on my PJs, and crawl into bed. I did all of those things.

However, I did not do the other things I wanted to do – order a pizza and eat the whole thing, cry myself to sleep and nap until my husband got home, then bake brownies and watch a movie while I eat the entire pan (possibly including the pan itself).

I don’t know if it was simply not having the wherewithal to order a pizza, not having the energy to go to the store and buy brownie mix, the guilt of letting my fresh produce go to waste by not sticking to my meal plan, or the grace of Almighty God alone, but I ate my lunch as planned and watched an episode of Chuck on Netflix. Now, I’m going to drink some water, change into my workout clothes, and do my exercises. One decision at a time. One meal at a time. One workout at a time.

Author: beth

I'm told that I'm cleverly stupid, and that's why people are friends with me. And here I thought it was because I was so dang cute...

3 thoughts on “Discouragement”

  1. Congratulations on your healthy choices, Beth. That kind of change is hard to make, and it looks like you are doing awesome with it. I understand what it’s like to have an interaction that derails your whole day (or even week sometimes), though under different circumstances, and I can totally relate to how it can make you want to eat your feelings up in a box of donuts. I’m trying to get on board with that positive self-talk thing; it does really seem to help me to say things to myself like “Melissa, you are doing really well and have a lot to be proud of. You can’t be responsible for taking on the emotional baggage of other people’s insensitive and inappropriate body comments.” Still, in solidarity I’m going to feel angry at what this woman said to you. She was way out of line in not responding to what you told her with compassion and respect.

    1. Thank you, Melissa. I’m realizing that the whole “one ______ at a time” includes all kinds of choices. When I get upset with this woman again in my mind, I’m the only one who has any control over that. The sadness comes and goes, and there isn’t much I can do about it. But anger or resentment or frustration…those are all on me. I have to just choose to let it go. One emotional flare-up at a time.

  2. The choices you’re making are no small thing, buddy, and I’m really proud of you. I’m also very sorry this woman was so thoughtless and, as Melissa rightly pointed out, she lacked so much compassion in her response.

    You say the word and I will go punch her in the neck. But in the meantime you’re doing things that are making you healthier, happier, and wiser. Letting go of the hurt from someone’s carelessness is part of that too. So proud of you for all the things.

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