I have always struggled with my weight. Up, down, down down, up, up, up. I was bulimic for years. I have never had a positive body image. I don't know at what point it segues into an eating disorder but it happened for me.
I have never had trouble losing weight once I was ready to lose it. Before getting pregnant last year, I'd gotten myself healthy, had lost 35 lbs and really felt great about myself. Then the fertility drugs started and I'd gain some weight. Then the IVF/Hyperstim/Twin pregnancy thing packed on the 35 I had lost.
Now I am stuck. My body is doing it's own thing. I feel like a whale. A highly emotional whale. My breastmilk is still in. If anyone's keeping track, they told me that would dry up in 2-3 weeks. Well I'm going on 4 months and it's still here!! My body is trying to get back to normal. Aside from that. And the extra hormones are playing havoc on my body. On my metabolism. On the way I see myself.
I am just kind of all screwed up still.
Frustrating. I'm trying to get my mind, body and soul all on the same page. A healthy place. Where I can feel like me again. Where I can have the confidence to make decisions that need to be made. To get to the place where I can start thinking about another baby down the road. That terrifies me. Absolutely terrifies me. I will gladly go thru everything I went through to get pregnant again. The shots, the surgeries, the throwing up, the sickness. I'll do it all again. When I'm ready. But it terrifies me. I can't lose another baby. I just cant.
Life is going ok right now. I'm feeling more at peace with where I am but I'm getting restless. I'm trying to figure out the next few months. School, job, new career path...too much to consider when I have no idea what to do. I don't think I want to go back into real estate. I don't know with the changes I've went through if it would be the best for me. For our family. I just don't know. I need to pray for guidance. I don't want to just be anymore.
The day has come that I'm not completely consumed with thought of the boys. That breaks my heart. Hanging family pictures on our wall of shame, I break down. I have pictures of our boys. But they aren't pictures we want to share with just anyone who walks in our house. I've never coveted anything more precious than those pictures I have of Jason and I holding our baby boys.
I know I need to move forward and get to a place where this is part of me, and not the whole of me. But I'm not ready to let that go yet. All I have are memories. Of finding out we were pregnant. Of finding out it was twins. Of finding out we had 2 boys. My heart has never been so full as when I knew I had Jason's little baby boys growing inside of me. Seeing for the first time what our baby looked like, as we were holding him. Loving him, bathing him with our tears. And then seeing his brother. I miss them. I miss them so much. I still can't believe it.
My body failed me. Failed my boys. Failed my family. I feel ugly. I feel broken. My body has always been my enemy and now even more so. I'm angry at it. It was supposed to protect my boys and keep them safe until my due date. Which is quickly approaching.
I've got to do something. Painting, projects, puppies, decorating, all well and good but once the project is over, once the painting is done, once the pup goes to bed, I'm left with this big empty hole.
I need to pray for direction. I need to pray for guidance. I just need to start praying again. God hasn't left me. He's showing himself in mighty ways in other areas of our life. And I am so appreciative of the blessings He gives us.
Some of the anger is leaving me. I'm thankful for that as well. But this emptiness, when it knocks on the door to my heart, it knocks me over.
Tucker and Flecther, I miss them. I miss people asking about them. I miss being pregnant. Mostly I miss not being able to look forward to being their Mama here on earth. Where I could hold them. Feed them, smell them and never let them go.
Life sucks sometimes. Other times it surprises you. I'll save that for my next blog. Right now I just want to close my eyes and not have a nightmare about what happened but see my boys as they were when I held them. Perfect.
Blessed because for that moment, Mama and Daddy were holding their baby boys. And as bad as the circumstances were, it won't ever take the fact that Jason and I held and loved and kissed Tucker. And Fletcher. We had our babies. And we are better for it!