My Issues
(As a note: This is mostly for my own emotional masturbation, and I do understand that it's likely very, very boring to most. Please feel free to skip this entry, if you can't stand to hear people whine.)
Despite what a do for a living, I have plenty of my own deep seated issues. Today, two major ones are in play... and I am about to sound like a whiny pre-teen in front of the whole internet.
Today, I had brunch with a friend who is also pregnant. And, who also reads this blog. So, Dear S, please know that all of the following Emotional Garbage I am about to express has only entirely to do with me and my above mentioned issues. You are radiant and wonderful and a joy to spend time with. I honestly really value that we're having this experience together. In addition to the sheer neato-ness of having such a good friend so close and going through similar feelings, it clearly also helps me (and the internet) evaluate my hang ups.
I have two major hang ups (though if you ask my husband, he might come up with a few more). In my opinion, my hang ups are these: 1) anything to do with my looks, 2) anything to do with not being capable or strong. Both were triggered by my outing today.
First, a detailed description of my issues because you can't fight an enemy you can't see.
Hang Up #1: My Looks
Let's face it, in a society where Angelina can be pregnant and only gain about 10 pounds while still wearing fabulous designer dresses to the Academy Awards... and people thinks that's a good thing, instead of asking why she would put her baby in danger like that... well, how am I supposed to feel, really? But, this issue is much deeper than just hormones or pregnancy. This is something I've had my whole life. Am I thin enough? Am I cute enough? Do the boys like me? If they don't, what can I do to make myself prettier? (Not smarter, mind you... prettier.) It sounds so silly, and when I step back and pretend I'm listening to someone else, I seriously want to slap me across the face and tell myself to get over it. But... well, it's just not that easy.
I've examined this and, I assume because it's too close to home, I just can't figure out what the heck is the road block in getting over this particular issue. I mean, I certainly value my intelligence, my sense of humor, my other talents. Thing is, I don't value them as much as I imagine other people value my looks. Oh dear god, now I sound like every other woman I've ever heard complain about this. And it's painful... being in this place where I know I'm feeling something totally irrational that I completely don't respect or ascribe to in theory. And yet... here I am.
Sure, I wish I had been brought up to believe that my value is deeper than my physical appearance. And, to give my parents credit, they did try. The thing is, who would you believe? Fashion challenged old(er) people or Entertainment Tonight and Seventeen Magazine? I believe the messages that we give to girls in our society are reprehensible, and frankly, I'm relieved to be having a boy (which comes with separate issues, but ones with which I feel more capable of dealing logically.)
Hang Up #2: My Ability and Strength
Having been born with my foot tangled in my own umbilical cord and, therefore, bent the wrong way, I feel like I was often given the message that I wasn't strong enough or capable of doing the things other kids did. Perhaps, it was just implied; I know children pick up on their surroundings. But, I totally bought this line of thinking, and despite the fact that my foot was totally fixed by the age of three, I remember knowing deep within myself, that I absolutely could not become a track star, a figure skater, or a professional dancer. I was incapable of being any type of athlete. Too weak, too different, too broken because of my foot. I don't think anyone ever said, "You can't do that." I just knew it was true.
Years later, after moving to the Bay Area, I became quite a hot commodity in the swing dance scene, much to my surprise. I could dance, and out here, nobody knew my secret... that I was truly incapable of greatness because of my foot. I had fooled everyone.
Around the same time, I had a friend who wanted to take me rock climbing. I had been lifting some weights to avoid a family legacy of osteoporosis, and thought climbing sounded like a fun way to build muscles. I was terrified and not at all graceful, when I started out. And then, suddenly, after months of attempting to climb more difficult grades, something clicked and I got it. I mean I really got it. And I was, objectively, measurably good at it!
During that period of time, I complained to my chiropractor that I seemed to always have some pain or another I needed him to fix. And he said the nicest thing I had ever heard to that day, "Well, that's pretty normal. You're an athlete." An athlete! Damn straight.
So, I have a knee jerk reaction (ask my husband and his sore shins about it) when someone even sort of, kind of, almost implies that I can't do something. Or, when I imagine it's true in my own twisted head space.
So then, the reason these issues were invoked by the power of this casual outing with my friend? You see, my friend is in her 17th week of pregnancy. She's lovely and sweet and not at all sickened by the smell of coffee (which I still am sometimes). She's also only gained about 3-5 pounds, so far, is wearing all of her pregnancy clothes, and looks fantastic. And I remember that at 17 weeks, I had gained over 20 pounds already and was wearing maternity pants. And, people at work kept telling me how huge I was. (Don't ever tell a pregnant woman she looks huge. It's just not nice. She knows it, already.)
I'm pretty sure the giant weight gain was mostly because I was so totally sick that I dropped going to the gym (a before pregnancy daily routine) and started eating only graham crackers or anything else that would make me feel like I didn't want to hurl 24/7. (Joke's on me, since I sort of still feel like tossing my cookies much of the time.)
So you see... now, at nearly 30 weeks pregnant, I have gained a total of 37 pounds, already over the upper end of "normal" on the weight continuum. And I still have 10 weeks to go to reach full term. At a pound more per week, that puts me solidly in the "holy crap what have I done to my body" category. I'm already disgusted by my own thighs and the amount of cellulite that's hitched a ride on my once-muscular ass. And then, I'm disgusted at my attitude because, honestly, a healthy baby is way more important to me than the shape of my ass. And yet, those thoughts tumble around in my possibly poisoned by People Magazine mind.
Which leads me to being capable. No matter how silly it sounds when I say it out loud to my husband or to you, internet, I can't help but feel as though I'm failing at pregnancy. Like I'm doing it all wrong. I'm constantly sick, I gained too much weight, and I never had the second trimester honeymoon that everyone talks about. And though I know everyone's pregnancy is different, I feel like I can't, and I hate that word.
So, thank you, internet. I do feel better having taken a better look at all that. And thank you, S, for facilitating my introspection. Everyone should look inside at the weirdness they carry around, once in a while.
Despite what a do for a living, I have plenty of my own deep seated issues. Today, two major ones are in play... and I am about to sound like a whiny pre-teen in front of the whole internet.
Today, I had brunch with a friend who is also pregnant. And, who also reads this blog. So, Dear S, please know that all of the following Emotional Garbage I am about to express has only entirely to do with me and my above mentioned issues. You are radiant and wonderful and a joy to spend time with. I honestly really value that we're having this experience together. In addition to the sheer neato-ness of having such a good friend so close and going through similar feelings, it clearly also helps me (and the internet) evaluate my hang ups.
I have two major hang ups (though if you ask my husband, he might come up with a few more). In my opinion, my hang ups are these: 1) anything to do with my looks, 2) anything to do with not being capable or strong. Both were triggered by my outing today.
First, a detailed description of my issues because you can't fight an enemy you can't see.
Hang Up #1: My Looks
Let's face it, in a society where Angelina can be pregnant and only gain about 10 pounds while still wearing fabulous designer dresses to the Academy Awards... and people thinks that's a good thing, instead of asking why she would put her baby in danger like that... well, how am I supposed to feel, really? But, this issue is much deeper than just hormones or pregnancy. This is something I've had my whole life. Am I thin enough? Am I cute enough? Do the boys like me? If they don't, what can I do to make myself prettier? (Not smarter, mind you... prettier.) It sounds so silly, and when I step back and pretend I'm listening to someone else, I seriously want to slap me across the face and tell myself to get over it. But... well, it's just not that easy.
I've examined this and, I assume because it's too close to home, I just can't figure out what the heck is the road block in getting over this particular issue. I mean, I certainly value my intelligence, my sense of humor, my other talents. Thing is, I don't value them as much as I imagine other people value my looks. Oh dear god, now I sound like every other woman I've ever heard complain about this. And it's painful... being in this place where I know I'm feeling something totally irrational that I completely don't respect or ascribe to in theory. And yet... here I am.
Sure, I wish I had been brought up to believe that my value is deeper than my physical appearance. And, to give my parents credit, they did try. The thing is, who would you believe? Fashion challenged old(er) people or Entertainment Tonight and Seventeen Magazine? I believe the messages that we give to girls in our society are reprehensible, and frankly, I'm relieved to be having a boy (which comes with separate issues, but ones with which I feel more capable of dealing logically.)
Hang Up #2: My Ability and Strength
Having been born with my foot tangled in my own umbilical cord and, therefore, bent the wrong way, I feel like I was often given the message that I wasn't strong enough or capable of doing the things other kids did. Perhaps, it was just implied; I know children pick up on their surroundings. But, I totally bought this line of thinking, and despite the fact that my foot was totally fixed by the age of three, I remember knowing deep within myself, that I absolutely could not become a track star, a figure skater, or a professional dancer. I was incapable of being any type of athlete. Too weak, too different, too broken because of my foot. I don't think anyone ever said, "You can't do that." I just knew it was true.
Years later, after moving to the Bay Area, I became quite a hot commodity in the swing dance scene, much to my surprise. I could dance, and out here, nobody knew my secret... that I was truly incapable of greatness because of my foot. I had fooled everyone.
Around the same time, I had a friend who wanted to take me rock climbing. I had been lifting some weights to avoid a family legacy of osteoporosis, and thought climbing sounded like a fun way to build muscles. I was terrified and not at all graceful, when I started out. And then, suddenly, after months of attempting to climb more difficult grades, something clicked and I got it. I mean I really got it. And I was, objectively, measurably good at it!
During that period of time, I complained to my chiropractor that I seemed to always have some pain or another I needed him to fix. And he said the nicest thing I had ever heard to that day, "Well, that's pretty normal. You're an athlete." An athlete! Damn straight.
So, I have a knee jerk reaction (ask my husband and his sore shins about it) when someone even sort of, kind of, almost implies that I can't do something. Or, when I imagine it's true in my own twisted head space.
So then, the reason these issues were invoked by the power of this casual outing with my friend? You see, my friend is in her 17th week of pregnancy. She's lovely and sweet and not at all sickened by the smell of coffee (which I still am sometimes). She's also only gained about 3-5 pounds, so far, is wearing all of her pregnancy clothes, and looks fantastic. And I remember that at 17 weeks, I had gained over 20 pounds already and was wearing maternity pants. And, people at work kept telling me how huge I was. (Don't ever tell a pregnant woman she looks huge. It's just not nice. She knows it, already.)
I'm pretty sure the giant weight gain was mostly because I was so totally sick that I dropped going to the gym (a before pregnancy daily routine) and started eating only graham crackers or anything else that would make me feel like I didn't want to hurl 24/7. (Joke's on me, since I sort of still feel like tossing my cookies much of the time.)
So you see... now, at nearly 30 weeks pregnant, I have gained a total of 37 pounds, already over the upper end of "normal" on the weight continuum. And I still have 10 weeks to go to reach full term. At a pound more per week, that puts me solidly in the "holy crap what have I done to my body" category. I'm already disgusted by my own thighs and the amount of cellulite that's hitched a ride on my once-muscular ass. And then, I'm disgusted at my attitude because, honestly, a healthy baby is way more important to me than the shape of my ass. And yet, those thoughts tumble around in my possibly poisoned by People Magazine mind.
Which leads me to being capable. No matter how silly it sounds when I say it out loud to my husband or to you, internet, I can't help but feel as though I'm failing at pregnancy. Like I'm doing it all wrong. I'm constantly sick, I gained too much weight, and I never had the second trimester honeymoon that everyone talks about. And though I know everyone's pregnancy is different, I feel like I can't, and I hate that word.
So, thank you, internet. I do feel better having taken a better look at all that. And thank you, S, for facilitating my introspection. Everyone should look inside at the weirdness they carry around, once in a while.
posted by Bert at 4:38 PM
8 Comments:
Bert-
Thank you for being so honest and sharing your thoughts and emotions.
I COMPLETELY know what you're feeling. I had pre-eclampsia with pregnant with Grace and PIH during my pregnancy with Harrison, and so I too felt like a complete failure at pregnancy. I never had the 2nd trimester honeymoon with EITHER of my pregnancies. And I always had the nagging feeling that SOMETHING was surely going to go wrong. And it was so frustrating for me to see and hear about all of these women who were having (what I perceived to be) normal pregnancies--it was so upsetting to me to know that I would never be able to go to a midwife, or have a delivery anywhere outside of a hospital room. I felt like a big, fat failure.
But I can tell you that it's going to be all right. When you have your son, you will look at him and see that you did not fail, but rather, you triumphed. This, in my opinion, is an instance in which the journey doesn't matter as much as the final destination...you could have the crappiest, most horrid pregnancy, but if you end up with a healthy, beautiful baby (which you WILL), then does it really matter how much weight you gained or whether or not you end up with cankles or whether or not you gave birth at home or strapped to a hospital bed?
Pregnancy is long and hard and at times, it seems like it will never end. I am one of the seemingly few women who do NOT enjoy being pregnant. But, it will be worth it once you see and hold your son. I promise.
Sorry for the rambling...hope you're feeling a little better.
I have to admit that even since before you got pregnant I was a little worried about how you'd handle seeing your body get bigger. Even though you have nagging worries it seems you are actually handling it pretty well -- you haven't become one of those nutty pregorexics, you're putting your health and the baby's first, and dang, you're even getting in to the gym.
I don't know if it helps but I can't help providing a little reality check: You look adorable based on the pics I've seen and I am really hoping I get to see you pregnant in person. I'm a fan of the pregnant form, not just my own, and it's my opinion that you are rocking it.
Since I didn't know you much before your dance and rock climbing careers, I have ALWAYS thought of you as athletic, graceful and capable. And being that every guy I've ever met who's met you has commented on how pretty you are (except my husband, who only has eyes for me), I don't think you have objective worries in that area whether you're preggers or not.
I know hearing that can't make deep seated fears from childhood go away, because I have my own. For me, I'm always worried about being shunned and mocked like I was as a kid. Sometimes people hear this and express surprise, tell me that I seem outgoing and likeable and easy to be friends with. That of course doesn't make my issues go away, but I still like hearing it, so I hope you like hearing from me that you're a turbo-babe.
It seems like your issues have mostly made you a successful person.
My belief: There is no failure in pregnancy that you can really control. Each are different and comparing one to another is almost as impossible as finding two identical snowflakes.
You'll soon see your body return to it's old shape, and your success will be rocked in your arms.
Boy, I would echo toyfoto - there's no failure in pregnancy. Each one is so different, even with the same woman there are differences between pregnancies. I can't tell you what to worry about and what not to worry about. It drives me crazy when people tell other people not to worry.
Speaking as an overweight person (I've not always been that way), I can say that I'm beyond sick of people looking at me and making assumptions about my worth because of outward appearances. It's not always spoken, but I feel it.
I guess I'm saying this because all you can really do is the best that you, personally, can do. You'll go crazy comparing yourself to others. Trust me, I know.
The one thing I always felt good about during both pregnancies (even though each one was very different) was that I was doing what I knew to be healthy for my babies. What more could you ask for?
I don't know what the right answer is for you, or what will make you feel better in the end. I know I'm rambling, but this post really spoke to me. Just know I'm wishing you the best and my thoughts are with you.
Thanks to you all for your wonderful support. Your thoughtful and heartfelt comments really mean a lot to me. :)
Hi Bert!
You don't know me...and I feel like an intruder, commenting amidst your circle of friends...but I've followed your blog on and off for a couple years as an avid follower of Carrie's.
Anyway, just through your posts alone, you have always come across as strong and able...and absolutely adorable to boot! You're rockin' the preggo bod, and seem to have to the nagging fears and concerns that every pregnant woman has about her body.
If it makes you feel any better, I gained 60+ pounds during my pregnancy with my son (he's 14 months now), and I absolutely HATED what pregnancy did to my body. Always self-conscious of my weight and appearance, it was particularly difficult to watch my body balloon up to 200 pounds. I about died. I, too, thought I'd be a "Heidi Klum" preggo, only to find that I was more along the lines of "Swollen Hotdog" instead.
However, and though I speak of my personal experience only, I was able to lose all of my baby weight and then some following his birth. With little to no effort. I credit it to nursing and just being an active mama.
So, just know that it's all temporary, and in the end you'll have a sweet precious to cuddle and snuggle and every pound will be worth it!
Best wishes (and hope you don't mind a stranger's opinion!) :D
Hi Bert!
I admit to peeking in on your blog to check on you and Bryan from time to time.
I just wanted to tell you that I know how you feel. Though I'm sure it's all hormones making emotions go nuts, it's still how you feel.
I felt like I failed pregnancy because Lucy was born a month early. (And ask Bryan, I don't like to fail!) And then I felt like I failed birth because I had to have a c-section. Neither of which I could have done anything about, but the thoughts were still there.
And I want to warn you what follows is Mommy Guilt and it's crazy. But don't beat yourself up over things you can't control and know you are not alone. Everyone else feels the same way too (unless they're freaks.) I'm certainly no expert in parenting, but I'm here if you ever want to talk to another mommy.
I can't wait for you little boy to be born. He's sure to be something special!
Althea
Bert, I thought and thought and thought before I finally decided that I was going to post a comment here. I didn't hesitate because I didn't want to immediately chime into the, "We love you, you look great, you are strong and amazing and completely normal" chorus---Amen, sisters! All those things are completely true, and I hope that you know how much all of us think you are fantastic, and are making this gestating thing look like a fabulous fashion statement.
I hesitated because, wow, this stuff is big and painful and delicate and touchy, all at the same time. How do I know? Ha ha ha ha ha!
As a card-carrying obese person, a gal who has struggled with her weight her entire adult life, who has understood deeply that no, I will not be thought of as beautiful by the masses, and no, the chances of this getting resolved permanently in my lifetime are slim, well, I hesitate to chime in. When it comes to body issues, I am no beacon of sunshine. For goodness sake, when I was pregnant, you could barely tell---sure, I didn't gain much weight, but I was already heavy, so I just looked extra lumpy. So yes, I hesitate to say anything, because really, what validity is there in my ideas on weight, when my own physical being is so skewed?
But then I think something so powerful that I cannot help but put all my fears about revealing too much or making things worse aside---YOU are YOU. Your body works the way your body works, this pregnancy works the way this pregnancy works, etc. Maybe that is making you feel crummy right now, by comparison to outside standards, but let me tell you---when I read about what you did in your life to become an athlete, to get over your fears, to sparkle on the dance floor, then I add to that everything else I know about your incredible work and accomplishments, I know with every fiber of my being that YOU just being YOU will come out of this pregnancy with an incredible outcome. Yep, your body might recover slower than you'd like, but then again, maybe it won't! Yep, you may have to face some body issues post-partum, but once again, maybe you won't!
WHATEVER HAPPENS, you will have the life and the body that you want. Why? BECAUSE YOU ARE YOU.
Much love, friend.
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