I don’t want to write about weight.

I don’t want to write about weight.  I am not an expert and it turns out I’ve only ever lived in this one body with its metabolism and genetics, so I feel at such a loss to make any grand, sweeping statements about weight that could apply to anyone else.  So I’ll make my caveat up front- this is just my experience.  But maybe it’s your experience, too.

I don’t want to write about weight, but I’m having a hard time not thinking about it.  A brief history- I’ve always been a skinny girl.  I weighed about the same weight (give or take 10 pounds) since I was 20.  But then I turned 30.  And then I got pregnant.  It was my third pregnancy, but this was the first one that made it past the first trimester.  Having lived my life feeling full really easily (I’ll never forget my dad saying “Buffets are wasted on you.”  So true.), the constant hunger of pregnancy was so foreign to me.  Pre-pregnancy if I got a Big Mac meal at McDonald’s I’d have to take home a doggie bag of a quarter of a sandwich and half of the fries.  Pregnant Maralee did not work the same way.  I honestly found myself crying because I felt like I could never get full even though I knew I didn’t need to eat more.  And it wasn’t like I was just eating junk.  I was very conscious about eating well for this baby, but I was eating a lot.

As you can imagine, at about six months pregnant I had gained the full amount of weight recommended for an entire pregnancy.  I was in tears with my midwife and she sweetly said, “You can gain whatever you want, you’ll just have more to lose.”  Can’t argue with that.  I decided at that point I’d no longer look at the scale when I went to my midwife appointments.  It wasn’t until my six week postpartum check-up that I asked her what my highest weight had been.  It was a horrifying number to hear and also a relief to see I was already losing weight from that highpoint.  I know there are a couple of you ladies that think I am making a big deal out of nothing.  Maybe because I was skinny I’m talking about this “horrific” weight that was actually just twenty pounds or something.  No.  No no no no no.  Whatever number you think is respectable to gain during a pregnancy, you just go ahead and double that.  And then maybe add ten pounds.  And then maybe a couple more.  I’m not joking.  I should also say that the part of me that struggled with infertility for nearly a decade hates me for even bringing this up.  What a small price to pay for the joy of carrying a child.

So after delivering the nine pound baby, there was quite a reality check about what was going on with my body.  My c-section recovery was tough, physically and emotionally.  And even when my body felt healed, I have a big newsflash for you- I now had FOUR children and the oldest was FIVE years-old.  I was now in survival mode.  I know there are women who find it incredibly freeing and enjoyable to run or do some kind of exercise class.  That is not me.  I will only run if chased.  And even then, you better have some kind of weapon.  In these months of trying to find a new rhythm to our life, I have not tried to incorporate intentional exercise outside of my normal “job requirements” of chasing, carrying, cleaning, etc.  I have also not done any real dieting.  I am eating a diet very similar to what I ate pre-pregnancy, which has always been pretty healthy.  I’m thankful that the weight has been coming off, although not nearly as quickly or as completely as I had hoped.  So here’s what I’ve learned about weight from this experience:

1.  Weight is not that complicated.  If I eat a lot, I gain a lot.  It’s pretty simple math.  I don’t spend time bemoaning my weight because I realize it’s something I have some ability to control.

2.  Weight is really complicated.  If it were all just math, there sure wouldn’t be that many books out there to try and help you get control over your weight.  In my experience, food is so much more than functional nourishment.  Food is what I do to celebrate a milestone, to fellowship with friends, to love my children, to encourage my husband, to relieve stress.  I’m not saying that’s right, I’m just saying that is how we use food.  When I have to deny myself that language or coping mechanism, it is emotional for me.

3.  Weight doesn’t define me.  I have to turn off that part of my brain that wants to rank myself according to the weight of the people around me.  While I am required to be a good steward of my body, I don’t think God sees a number on the scale as morally right or morally wrong.

4.  Weight is not my highest priority.  What would I have to give up to buckle down and lose the last of this weight?  Stop eating out with my girlfriends every once in a blue moon?  Start dropping my kids off at daycare so I can go running?  Quit breastfeeding?  Those are all options that may work for some moms, but they are not my priorities.  We all have different priorities and I’m only responsible for mine.

5. Skinny does not equal healthy.  There was a time in my life when I was really skinny.  I was not healthy.  Not physically, not emotionally.  I do not want to be that person again.  If that means I get to be “curvy” right now, I’m going to embrace that.  This version of me is healthy in a way that version never could be.

6.  The more I focus on my weight, the less I focus on what matters.  My husband thinks I’m beautiful.  He does not think it’s beautiful when I talk about my weight.  If I point out my stretch marks, then he’s noticing them.  If I’m confident and take care of the body I’ve been given, that is attractive.  And when I have confidence and take my focus off of myself, I’m able to do be a better steward of my life.

7.  Nobody wants advice about their weight.  If somebody asks for your help as far as a diet or exercise plan, feel free.  Other than that, let’s just focus on supporting the emotional health of the people we love and trust that pointing out their weight flaws would not be helpful.  Maybe there’s an appropriate moment for a “weight intervention” if somebody has really gotten out of control, but for the most part we need to keep the main thing the main thing.  The main thing is rarely somebody’s weight.

I’m so thankful for women who have loved me at every weight.  Women who have affirmed my gifts and my beauty even when I couldn’t see it.  Their encouragement has helped me keep this little weight issue in perspective.  What a gift I’ve been given to carry and birth my precious son, no matter the toll it took on my body.  I want to help give that perspective to other women who are stuck in the struggle.

So what would you add to this list?