Banishing the Postpartum Body Blues

I'm over at Faith & Family LIVE! today writing about a topic I'm passionate about: How real moms can come to terms with their postpartum bodies stretch marks and all.

Please stop by and weigh in (no pun intended).

Will Eat for Baby

It’s still dark outside. I’ve just nursed the baby and I should be in bed, trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep before my older children wake me up. Instead I sneak into my bathroom and step on the scale with trepidation.

Will it be my friend or foe this morning?

It takes a few seconds for the digital number to appear. I stare at it and then step off the scale. I tell myself I have to let it go, that the number on the scale is irrelevant to my happiness.

I return to bed and watch my sleeping baby’s form. Her eyelids briefly flicker open and I see a sliver of blue. She sighs. Her tiny fist unfurls to reveal her perfect hand and her arm jerks. She folds into me and I feel her heat against my body. I love her so deeply, and I am thankful for this love. Sometimes I think it's my love for my children that keeps me from falling off the edge again, to succumbing to disordered eating as I've done in the past.

I recently stumbled across Deuteronomy 25:18-19 and recognized that vigilance is imperative during this exhausting point in my life. The passage reads: “He harassed you along the way, weak and weary as you were, and cut off at the rear all those who lagged behind."

When I’m exhausted, I’m more likely to cave in to past temptations. When I am weary, I let my guard down and allow the relics of my eating disorder to creep back into my life. It's all too easily to fall into old habits, to let demons of the past haunt me and lure me in.

Every day is a struggle for me. Whenever I feel hunger pangs deep inside of me, I have to tell myself I must eat if not for my own nourishment than for my baby who needs my body to have enough energy to feed her.

I always worry when I bring up my struggles with body angst. People don’t understand, especially since I don't look like I have a weight problem (though I certainly do have a type of weight problem). Even my own husband can't understand it. "You're beautiful," he says. But it's not about beauty. My weight is not about how I look or even how my jeans fit. For me, it’s about being in control. It's about having a quantifiable means of measuring my worth.

My nights are unpredictable and so, too, are most of my days. When I slip between the sheets each night, I never know when the baby will wake up to nurse or how long I will have to hold her upright after each feeding so that the gurgling and the wet hiccups will no longer cause her pain (and keep me awake). I don’t know when my older children will need me – when my day will begin or how it will unfold. I can have a plan in mind, but it can slowly begin to unravel with an unexpected crying jag (from the baby or me), a sibling sprawl over a once-forgotten stuffed animal that has swiftly taken the center stage as the number one toy to have in your possession, or a spilled smoothie seeping into our carpet.

In short, in my fatigue and my dicey days and even dicier nights, I feel powerless. I cannot control the number of hours (minutes!) I spend in REM. I cannot always control my children’s behavior, try as I might. I do not know when (or if) my husband will be home from work to offer support.

But how much I eat, the delightful downward trend of the scale – these are areas of my life in which I can wield complete control. I can whip my body into submission and deprive myself of calories. If I eat too much or the number on the scale gets stuck at an “unreasonable” number, I can always take certain purgative measures (skip breakfast, exercise for longer and harder) to compensate. When I feel lacking as a mother, there's one area I know I can master; I used to be very good at controlling my weight.

Not that I subscribe to the unhealthy habits of my past. I try not to weigh myself very often at all; I resist losing weight unless it's done the healthy way. But I am faced with the temptation to start obsessing over calories and the number on the scale nearly every day.

But then I hear my baby cry. Or my toddler reaches up to me with her deliciously chubby arms and says, “Pick me up, Mommy.” Or my preschooler challenges me to a game of tag. And I know I must eat if not for myself then for the children who need me – all of me – to feed them, hold them, chase them and most importantly, to teach them that their own bodies are temples deserving of respect and honor.

When I begin to notice every inch of flesh, the way it moves when I move. Or when I am tempted obsess over every bite that passes my lips, I tell myself that I need to be strong. I need to fuel my body and not punish it. I need to remember that pursuing thinness has no eternal value at all, but raising children does. And I remind myself that God is in me. He dwells in this body of mine.

I cannot wish away this cross I bear. For a long time, that's what I've tried to do - to forget that I ever had an eating disorder. In fact, not so long ago I wrote to a friend who was struggling with her body image that I used to see myself as weak for not being able to completely rid myself of this inner turmoil. However, what has helped me is knowing that this is a cross I'll likely have for the rest of my life. It's one I must accept and embrace. Much like a recovered or dry alcoholic, I've come to see that I can be physically recovered but that I face an ongoing process of restoration. I'm always working to detach myself from my unhealthy thoughts and to attach myself completely to God. Only then will his love and power for healing have the ability to take hold of my life.

So I will eat for my baby, but I’ll also eat for myself and for the God who created me and loves every postpartum, soft inch of me.

Personal Waste

This evening I was reading an essay called "To Be Fat and Recovered" by Marcia Germaine Hutchinson. It was written from the perspective of a woman who after recovering from a lifelong history of disordered eating accepted that she would never be thin. In fact, she describes herself as fat despite eating healthy and exercising regularly. Her metabolism, she suspects, is a train wreck because she spent over three decades of her life either on a diet, failing a diet, rebounding from a diet, or planning another diet.

The entire essay was worth the read, but there was one particular passage that really jumped out at me:

"Reflect on how many minutes and hours you spend obsessing about your body in the course of a day. How much time do you spend worrying about food? How much over what to wear? How much about how others are judging you? How much in judging yourself? Multiply this amount by 365 and you have some sense of the magnitude of your personal waste."

Just last week I spent way too much time obsessing over one, now that I've had more time to think about it, fairly innocuous comment in response to a pregnancy photo I posted and how people were judging me. I invested all of this precious energy - and all my energy is precious right now, given how tired I've felt in my eighth month of pregnancy - on worrying about not only how I look to myself (do I look too pregnant or pregnant enough?) but also worrying about what judgments others make based upon one isolated photo my preschooler happened to take.

How narcissistic is that?

Thankfully, Lent is right around the corner and fasting on food isn't going to be half as cleansing for me as fasting on my own personal waste. Any time I'm tempted to think about my weight or what I'm supposed to look like or what others think I'm supposed to look like, I'm going to instead turn my thoughts heavenward.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat (or drink), or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?"

-Matthew 6: 25-27

Book Review: The Baby Fat Diet

I recently received a review copy of The Baby Fat Diet, and I admit I was reluctant to start reading a book that might put unnecessary pressure on new moms to return to their pre-pregnancy weight.

I’m not a big fan of dieting books (or even the word diet) in general because too many of them seem to offer quick, short-term solutions for shedding weight rather than giving readers practical tips on how to make more lasting lifestyle changes - changes that won’t only result in a smaller clothing size but in a healthier body overall. I’m especially weary of books that have the potential to make new moms feel lumpy and gelatinous instead of allowing them to bask in the privilege of motherhood.

Well, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised with the book. Its title as well as its cover image of a chic mom sporting big hoop earrings a la J-Lo happily pushing a smiling toddler in a cool jogging stroller while at the same time toting her baby in a sling are catchy (and most likely the brainchild of some book marketing gurus rather than the authors), but they also might suggest that moms have to live up to some contrived ideal. But the advice “never judge a book by its cover” is worth heeding in this case because I was happy to find that within its pages you won’t find yet another dieting book. Nor is the book’s goal to turn you into a slim “yummy mummy.”

In fact, one of the chapters is actually entitled “Say ‘No’ to Dieting” and reveals the tell-tale signs of fad diets such as the carbs-are-always-evil-diets that have taken a hold of so many of my friends. (I remember watching in horror as a work colleague peeled off slice after slice of cheese from her pizza and popped the oozing mozzarella into her ketone-riddled-foul-smelling mouth. That was her dinner: Several slices of melted cheese.)

What this book is really about is slowly making small but permanent lifestyle changes that have the potential to make a noticeable difference in a mom’s waistline and more importantly, in her perception of herself.

The book's authors, who are both registered dietitians, offer 30 simple tips to help moms discover (or rediscover) how to:

• Eat for one again
  
• Recognize healthy portion sizes
  
• Nosh on a healthy breakfast
  
• Eat nutritious food on-the-go
  
• Rev up their metabolism
  
• Get your entire family on board to make healthy lifestyle changes
  
• Fit exercise into your daily grind
  
• Pair pleasure with healthy foods

One of my favorite pointers is to start eating like your kids. Think about it. Most of us are far more concerned with our kids’ nutrition than our own. I, for one, routinely buy organic milk for my girls, but I slurp up the cheaper brands. I limit the amount of processed foods my kids nibble on throughout the day (most of the time). (Goldfish should not be the sixth food group, although I am sometimes guilty of doling out schools of the cheesy fish on any given day – always of the whole grain variety, of course. Cut me a little slack here.) I also really try to encourage my kids to eat intuitively, to listen to their bodies and to eat everything in moderation (no foods are labeled as "bad" around my house).

The other day my preschooler wanted a cookie. (She’s allowed one treat a day and can have it at any time she wants, but once she’s eaten her daily allotment, that’s it. I’m a cruel, cruel mom.) She ate a good chunk of it and then asked me to save the small bite that was left at her plate.

Do I really have to waste a Tupperware on saving that crumb of a cookie?

“Mommy, I stop when I’m full,” she proudly announced.

Yes, I do and I did. I stashed her cookie leftovers in a container and tossed it in the trash a few days later when I was certain the morsel had been forgotten.

The thing is, she really does stop when she’s full. Kids, especially babies and toddlers, eat instinctively if we only let them. They also eat smaller, more frequent meals throughout the day – a way of eating that virtually every health expert encourages people to adopt since it keeps your metabolism up and blood sugar levels more steady.

I think we could all benefit from eating like our kids – to nibble on nutritious bites like nuts, raisins, sliced apples, and carrot sticks dipped in hummus or a yogurt-peanut-butter dip (some of my girls’ favorite snacks), to eat less processed food and to opt for more wholesome and if possible organic choices, to listen to our bodies and to stop when we’re full, to indulge in that cookie or hunk of dark chocolate (my personal favorite indulgence) and to really enjoy it.

So many of us see treats as stolen pleasures instead of just occasional and allowable pleasures. Not my kids. I recently observed my preschooler and toddler both enjoy a very modest dollop of ice cream. They took small licks and watched the ice cream dribble down their cones before catching it with their tongues. They savored every taste of the creamy stuff. Their eyes were gleeful. They really relished that ice cream, and they didn’t serve up a side of guilt to go with it.

It’s time we all start eating like our kids, don’t you think?

Other highlights of the book I like include:

• Tips for grocery shopping with children and getting them excited about healthy eating (If buying the Dora-endorsed edamame gets them to eat this nutritionally-dense food, then go for it).
  
• How to make healthy choices at restaurants.
  
• Sample menus for 1,600 to 2,400-calorie levels. The 2,400-calorie eating plan for day 3 includes a 4-ounce glass of red wine and two dark chocolate Hershey kisses. I can live with that.
  
  And my favorite:
  
  
• A comprehensive shopping list that includes all the healthy staples you should stock your kitchen with as well as a smaller grocery lists that correspond to the food recommended in each chapter. Anything that simplifies my life is a definite perk. Plus, I am a big nerd and I love lists and spreadsheets that help keep me organized.
  

Although much of the book’s advice wasn’t new to me (I’ve covered health beats for a long time as a journalist and have been described as a health nut on more than one occasion), I felt the way the information was presented and organized (lots of lists and bullet points, spaces to jot down your own notes, etc.) could be very helpful to moms in all seasons of motherhood, not just new moms, hoping to drop their “baby weight."

Moreover, this book isn’t just for moms who need to lose weight for health reasons. Nor is it written for women who have embraced a “size 2 or bust” kind of mantra. It’s for any mom – even those who are at a healthy weight but may just need to tweak their eating habits so they feel better - who wants to make health a priority for herself and her family.

Now some final words from a mom who’s had two babies and has another one on the way: When you’ve got the hard and all-consuming work of taking care of (or growing) a baby and the rest of your family on your hands, the last thing you need is to whip your body into submission and/or to punish yourself for not fitting into your pre-baby jeans. Do not waste precious energy worrying about the way you look.

Instead of yearning for your pre-pregnancy bod, try to just focus on taking care of yourself. I’m no nutritionist or personal trainer (although I was a certified aerobics instructor back in my college days, and I can still do a mean Grapevine), but here are a few of my thoughts on how to feel good about your body:

• Sleep when you can. Honestly, I hate my own advice. There’s no time to sleep! But I’ve learned that I must make getting sleep (as much as I can) a priority. Otherwise my physical, emotional, and spiritual health suffer. And often so does my family’s. Who wants to live with a short-tempered mombie?
  
  
• Nurse that beautiful bundle of joy and enjoy the bonding and the calorie burning: Breastfeeding burns an estimated 300 to 500 calories per day. (But bear in mind extended breastfeeders like myself sometimes “hold on” to 3 to 5 pounds of fat before they wean. You and your nursing child need this extra "baggage." Stop obsessing about it. Your body is nourishing another human being, so let it hang onto its small fat store, will you?)
  
  
• Squeeze in exercise when you can. Aim to go outside for a short walk as often as your life permits – it will do your body and mind wonders. Cradle your baby close like an oversized dumbbell and do squats or lunges. Dance around your living room. Your kids will think you're funny (or crazy).
  
  
• Be patient. It took you nine months to grow a baby and to put on the necessary “baby weight.” Expect for it to take about that long to get rid of it.

To order a copy of The Baby Fat Diet, click here.

For more nutrition and fitness tips as well as recipes, visit The Baby Fat Diet blog.

Check out other participants in The Baby Fat Diet Blog Tour.

Weighing in Over at Faith & Family Live

There's an interesting discussion taking place over at Faith & Family Live! Danielle Bean wrote an excellent post (in my opinion) about things she hates about diets. I put my two cents in since this is obviously a topic I'm passionate about (and I'm a blabber mouth).

What surprised me is that not everyone responded favorably to the post (or to comments like my own that address the danger of becoming preoccupied with food, weight, and/or appearance). I think that people were coming from different backgrounds - those who had to "diet," or I prefer to say make lifestyle changes for the sake of their health and feel proud of their accomplishments (as they very well should!) and those who, like me, have struggled with a poor body image even when they were at a healthy weight.

As Rachel Balducci points out in a follow-up post, when some of us struggle with our weight and/or body image, we're really grappling with feelings, unmet needs, or issues that run more deeply than our body measurements. She writes,

"Within the last few months, I have absolutely said (to more than one friend) that I will feel better once I lose those last three (or five) pounds.

What I discovered in the midst of this, is that I was indeed getting wrapped up in a poor self-image, but in a way it was my body telling me I needed something more. Once I started getting back into exercise I felt so much better about myself. It didn’t have anything to do with the numbers on the scale; it had everything to do with all the emotional havoc that I experience when I’m not treating my body right—when I’m not getting out there and revving up the endorphins by lifting weights and taking brisk walks and runs."

By all means, do your body good! I don't think Danielle was suggesting otherwise. But be careful not to let your appearance or the scale become a barometer of your happiness and self-worth.

At any rate, I found it interesting that the word "diet" stirred up so many diverse emotions - from frustration to triumph. All the posts and ensuing comments are definitely worth the read. I've included the links below.

Three Things I Hate About Diets
Weighty Matters
Weighing In

Growing Pains

I'm almost 20-weeks pregnant with my third child (that's me pregnant with my second bambino), so I'm supposed to be gaining weight. This is the sign of a healthy baby. I know all this, but it doesn't mean it's easy-peasy for me to watch my waistline disappear and to see that number on the scale steadily rise every couple of weeks.

I wish I were one of those preggos who felt like a hot mama during pregnancy. When I became pregnant with my first, I eagerly stocked up on black Lycra tops that would hug my bump. (Think Angelina Joile.) I envisioned myself embracing the whole fertile goddess image. But eight months into my pregnancy I felt like I looked more like a Killer Whale than Angelina in my slinky, black tops (even though others said I looked small; like most women, I'm my own worst critic). While I'm always certainly thankful to be pregnant (or at least to be having another baby), I often find myself mourning my old body at some point during the nine-month journey.

I doubt I'm alone in my feelings of body angst during pregnancy. Even though many women don't share my eating disorder history, it's not most women's idea of fun to pack on the pounds.

For me, seeing my body give way to a softer, fuller form really is a constant struggle. I do have days where I find respite from my body hatred. I'm more focused on growing this beautiful baby (as I always should be), but I've admittedly found that this pregnancy has been tougher than my others and that I've had more bad days than good.

Maybe it's because God was the only one who planned this pregnancy (whereas my first two I'd been eager to conceive and was using natural family planning to do just that). I suppose I wasn't ready to relinquish control, and that's what it's really about for me: Control. When I'm not pregnant, I know - as unhealthy as this sounds - that I can skip a meal or push myself hard during a workout and make that scale budge in the direction I want it to (not that I act on these impulses since being "recovered," but it's in the knowing that I can that somehow makes me feel less anxious).

But when I'm pregnant, I have a baby depending on me. I have a growing little one who needs nourishment and needs me to fuel my body with healthy food, even when I'm feeling nauseous or gross. I have to surrender to the scale and allow that number to climb.

This is why, I've realized, that pregnancy is so good for me. It's always a challenge, but it forces me to stop focusing on my weight, the way I look in my jeans (there's no such thing as skinny jeans when you're a preggo), and to stop being such an idiotic control freak.

I have also found that there are certain measures I can take to help me to better appreciate my new bod. (And, whether you're pregnant or not, I think some of these tips can be helpful for anyone hoping to overcome body image problems.)

So, my friends, here are some simple ways to help you love your preggo bod and to get over those growing pains:

• Get moving. I've made an effort to exercise throughout all of my pregnancies (except, of course, when I was on bedrest for three weeks with my second). I've found that exercising – moving a little bit every day despite the fatigue or nausea – makes me feel not only healthier but also more comfortable with my new shape. Aside from those exercise endorphins, maybe my elevated self-esteem has to do with the fact that I'm doing something healthy for my baby and for me. Plus, regular prenatal exercise has been shown to boost energy levels, help prepare moms-to-be for childbirth (the biggest "workout" of your life!), relieve stress, and may even help women bounce back to their pre-pregnancy figure. I do a lot of walking and also try to do some prenatal yoga and Pilates. Just be sure to get the green light from your OB/GYN or midwife before you start (or even continue) a prenatal fitness routine.
  
  
• Shun the scale. My current midwife is amazing. I was very upfront with her when I was pregnant with my second. I explained that I struggle with gaining weight during pregnancy and that it's not even really about what the scale says. I divulged my eating disorder history, and I asked her if we could just not make my weight an issue unless it was posing a risk for my baby because I was gaining too much or too little. She has been so sensitive with my previous and current pregnancy. At some appointments, she tells me I don't even have to step on the scale. Not knowing an exact number has been very liberating for me. Instead of fretting over my weight, I can just enjoy being pregnant and focus on taking care of my growing baby.
  
  Whether you're pregnant or not, try freeing yourself from the scale. Weighing yourself once a week is reasonable, but don't make it an everyday thing and, never forget that your self-worth is so much more than a number on a scale or a clothing size.
  
  
• Accentuate the positive. Sure, varicose veins, puffy ankles and a behemoth bottom (I always get a bigger bum than tummy) are no fun, but what about the positive changes pregnancy brings like a curvier bod? Why not embrace your femininity? Don’t go for the frumpy look, and avoid anything that looks remotely like a tent. Go for modest but chic looks. I’m very thankful that maternity clothing is so cute and fashionable these days, and I try to not “hide” the fact that I’ve been blessed with another baby.
  
  
• Celebrate your pregnancy. Okay, I’m really not the artsy-fartsy type, but I did something really cool during my first pregnancy after I wrote an article about an artist who transforms women’s fertile forms into pieces of art. This was completely out of character and frankly, it made me nervous, but I agreed to have a cast done of my torso when I was eight months pregnant. Elizabeth Barnes of Artful Expectations was the artist who cast my belly and then painted it to look like Ivy, my parents’ yellow Lab. (Sounds a little strange, I know, but this pup-belly ended up being the perfect artwork for my daughter’s room since she's crazy about Ivy.)
  
  When I saw what my body actually looked like housing a baby (rather than scrutinizing it using the carnival mirror in my head that has a tendency to distort how I see my body), I realized that my pregnant form was absolutely beautiful and that my baby, as cheesy as this may sound, was a piece of art my husband and I had co-created with God. If that doesn’t break the funny mirror in my mind, I don’t know what will.
  
  If a belly cast isn’t an option, why not ask your husband to take photos of your pregnant bod? I've always been envious of women who showcase their belly shots throughout pregnancy; I've never been brave enough to do that, but maybe someday I'll get to that place. As it stands, I too often avoid the camera when I’m pregnant; yet, I know that down the road I’m going to want to see pictures of me carrying my children. In fact, I didn’t like the photo above when it was taken when I was about seven months pregnant, but now it’s one of my favorite snapshots. I love how my older daughter's hand is on my belly and how I’m not recoiling from her touch. We both look so content, and it's clear we were celebrating a new life together. The bottom line is having a baby – accommodating not one but two souls in the temple of your body – is always worth celebrating.
  
  
• Forget about those pre-baby jeans. After giving birth, you’ll be slightly thinner, but don’t expect to look like Heidi Klum. Most normal women – as in all of us who don’t have the luxury of personal trainers, nutritionists and chefs at our service – should expect to look about five months pregnant after delivery. Cut yourself some slack and focus on motherhood.
  
  Besides, even if you never fit into those skinny jeans again, who really cares? As moms, we should have a whole new appreciation for our bodies after we deliver and often nurse a baby. I know I did. I never feel as amazing or empowered as I do after I give birth and when my milk first comes in. I’m lucky because I haven’t yet experienced baby blues in my early postpartum days. It’s more like baby mania. I feel so gloriously happy to have a new child and also in awe of my body that not only grew a baby but was also able to get the child out on its own and then feed it. I am Mommy. Hear me roar!
  
  
• Pray. I have some really tough days when I’m pregnant, days when I hate my body, days when I’m tempted to take drastic, unhealthy measures to be in control of the scale. There are days when I take my baby and my body for granted. When I’m feeling particularly vulnerable, I meditate on Jesus’ words: “This is my body and it has been given up for you.” And isn’t that really what we do as moms whether we're ever blessed enough to physically carry and/or nurse a child or not? Every time we embrace another pregnancy, nurse a child, hold a toddler until our arms ache, drag ourselves out of bed to comfort a frightened child, or even play a game of catch with our kids, we’re employing our bodies to be mothers. Really, how can we not love our bodies, knowing that we're using them in exactly the way God intended?
  
  

Protecting our Girls

Recently a friend told me she was concerned about her middle daughter, because she has been "putting on weight."

She is one of three lovely teenaged girls. They are all beautiful, bright and talented. They do well in school and are dancers who take part in their school's dance team.

The youngest, at 14, is 5'3" and weighs 98 pounds. The eldest, at 17, is so thin that size zero dresses hang on her. The middle child, the one who Mom is concerned about? She's 5'4" and is tipping the scales at 118.

Her mom was worried because the jeans she bought in August are getting snug. She's gained SO MUCH weight that her pants are too tight! Horrors!

I didn't quite know what to say to my friend, whom I love dearly. All I could come up with when she told me she finally had her daughter get on the scale to verify how much she'd gained lately was a lame, "Well, she's certainly in the normal range. Why don't you just matter-of-factly tell her you'll get her some new jeans?"

I'm concerned, not just about my friend and her daughters, but about all of our girls. Why is it that we "worry" that we are simply too fat when we are just normal?

Pressure is so great to conform to a certain standard. I know that my friend, who is extraordinarily attractive, a size six, and an avid hater of her thighs, still struggles with body image at age 45. She loves her daughters and worries that they stay healthy and love themselves. But is her "concern" really healthy?

Don't our girls deserve better than this?

Weighing In

I'm on a bit of a vacation this weekend, exploring Northern Michigan with my husband in honor of our 22nd wedding anniversary.

We are enjoying the views of Little Traverse Bay, shopping in fun boutiques, drinking local wines, and eating delicious meals. Lots of delicious meals. Too many delicious meals.

I'm not used to such indulgence, and I'm starting to get nervous. It's been three days since I weighed myself, and I'm convinced I've probably gained five pounds. Considering the fact that it took me three months to lose six pounds, this is quite a serious matter.

Or is it? Will the world stop spinning if I do indeed gain five pounds? Of course not, but it disturbs me that I'm even spending time thinking about it.

I'm on a lovely getaway celebrating a special occasion with a wonderful man. I'm enjoying all sorts of things about it, including the tasty foods that I normally deny myself. It is a perfectly balanced notion that I should indulge a bit on such a special occasion, right?

And forget about the blasted scale, and what it might indicate when I return to reality! Being away from it for a few days always reminds me that I rely on it to tell me whether or not I'm having a good day, whether or not I am a good girl or a bad one.

That's ridiculous. I don't need a scale to tell me that these days are a wonderufl blessing, a gift. Decadent food and all.

Thank you God, for your bountiful gifts, gifts that no scale can measure!

Mirror Image

My 14-month-old loves to kiss her image staring back at her in my bedroom’s full-length mirror. I watched her the other day smiling and waving at herself and then leaning in for a wet kiss, and I found myself wondering if I’ve ever felt like kissing the reflection that stares back at me when I give myself the once over in a mirror.

Truth is, I’m often not happy with what I see. That big pimple on my chin sure isn’t pretty. (Someone please tell me why I am still getting pimples anyway. I’m nearly 30 for goodness’ sake!) My arms aren’t toned enough. My bum looks bigger today than it did yesterday.

You get the picture.

But God doesn’t. He can’t understand why I don’t love myself more because He doesn’t see what I see at all.

God loves what He created. We can be curvy, rifle-thin, disabled, disfigured, and it doesn’t matter. He looks past our corporeal qualities and sees our souls.

When we criticize our reflections, we’re not seeing clearly. We’re blind to the kind of pure, unconditional love that God has for each of us.

For today, why not try to look at your reflection in the mirror through God’s eyes? Look past whatever perceived imperfection you think you have and don’t question God’s taste. He made you and He loves what He sees with a love no one else can ever offer you.

that's what I like about me!

Five things I like about my body:
1. My eyes. They are large and espressive and they are the color of milk chocolate.
2. My lips. They are full and shapely, and I didn't even need collagen injections!
3. My fingernails. They grow quickly and are nicely-shaped.
4. My ummm, well. Let me think for a minute.
OK.... I've got it! My ears! They are small and well-shaped!
5. My collarbone and shoulders. They look nice in pictures.

Five things I like about my body that have nothing to do with its appearance:
1. My womb. It seems difficult to talk about because it's personal, sacred. But how I blessed I have been! My womb has held seven children. How much I love it!
2. My senses. My senses of sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell allow me to experience this beautiful world. What gifts they are, and how I take them for granted.
3. My brain. It does live in my body, after all. How cool is it that I can schlep around my thoughts all day in such a handy carrying case?
4. My muscles. They are not stream-lined or ripped, but they are strong enough to get the job done. Because of them I could lift my babies; because of them I can hug the ones I love.
5. My hands. They allow me to write and share all those thoughts I'm lugging around. And that's a very good thing.

Both of these lists were difficult to write, the first one much harder than the second.

What about you? What do you love about YOUR body?

the body image project

I came across this site and found it compelling, disturbing, fascinating and true.

Check it out here.

does this blog make me look fat?

How about these jeans?

Come on, be honest. You can tell I've put on a few pounds, can't you?

You, on the other hand, look fabulous. What's your secret? Weight Watchers, South Beach, Medical Weight Loss? Three-a-day sessions with a personal trainer? I hate you.

And Sue, I really hate her. She is looking so thin. Too thin, really. Do you think she's had surgery?

And speaking of surgery, do you think I should have a tummy tuck? Does the Catholic Church allow tummy tucks? If I have one I might die, so I should go to confession first.

Confession. I have a lot of confessions to make. I am not too keen with my body right now. I mean, who would be? What happened to the body I used to live in? Is it supposed to look like this? Is that supposed to hang like that? Are these supposed to droop that low?

But wait a minute. I should be "holier" than that. I know that my body is a gift from God, that I was created in His image. I should not let the current culture dictate what my appearance should be. My stretch marks are like battle scars won while giving the gift of life to seven beautiful children. My breasts are soft because they were used for their God-intended purpose -- the nurturing of my babies. The tiny wrinkles around my eyes and the not-so-tiny lines of my brow give testament to a life of joy and sadness, but a life well-lived. The extra pounds I carry make me the cuddly mommy that my children love. My husband, God bless him, loves me just as I am.

I should exercise and eat well because I am a good steward of this great gift our Loving God has given me. I have an obligation to care for myself and to set a good example for my children. Living a healthy lifestyle is my duty as a Christian. My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. I should seek to be a worthy vessel.

But I shouldn't worry too much how I look in those jeans.

If you've ever had these thoughts, my friend, you are in the right place. How do we balance our need to be fit in figure with our desire to be pleasing to the Lord? Is it wrong to be concerned with our physical appearance, or is our laziness in caring for ourselves an indication of sloth and gluttony?

I'm not here because I have all the answers. I'm here because I have lots of questions, and I have the feeling I'm not alone.

My heart has been full with these issues lately. I've dealt with my body image for as long as I can remember. Just the other day, pondering whether or not I should start this blog, I came across this article from one of my favorites, Kate Wicker. Check it out here.

After reading it I knew there was lots to talk about. Want to weigh in? (Pun intended, of course.) I hope you will.