I got in my car and thumbed through the paperwork the doctor had given me. On the first page were all the random stats and boring stuff. A few pages in, however, was a recommendation for a diet and exercise plan.
Why would they put that in there? I mean, yeah, I'm pleasantly plump, but whatevs. I went back to the front page with the boring stuff and noticed my BMI. Hmm. Let's Google what a healthy BMI is.
Dudes. I won't share my BMI, but apparently I fall into the Obese catagory. I spent the next couple minutes alternating between laughing hysterically at my Obese self, and feeling pretty ashamed.
I had been planning to treat myself to McDonald's for lunch after my appointment, but instead I went home and didn't eat anything until dinner.
Let's backtrack to the start of my doctor visit. Of course the worst part about seeing the doctor is being weighed, right? And of course their scale adds pounds (the scales made for home use are worthless pieces of crap, did you know that?). I grimaced as I saw my weight, but I was not surprised. I am very aware that I am at my all-time heaviest. My glorious collection of pencil skirts are currently out of the question without Spanx - I probably shouldn't be wearing them even with Spanx. I have created a rubber-band buttonhole contraption for my favorite leopard-print skirt so that I can squeeze into it with Spanx. I have many skirts in my closet that I cannot wear no matter what Spanx/contraption I try. #funtimes.
I weigh more now than I did both times I was pregnant.
Let's emphasize this point: I weigh more now than I did the times I had another human living inside my body.
Ever since my dad died, I have been at my worst physical (and emotional) state in my entire life. Even worse than post-partum & hormonal & leaking from all sorts of personal areas. Mostly it's because I started experiencing anxiety & panic attacks during my dad's illness, and it hasn't gone away. So every day of my life now includes a weird underlying nervousness; never feeling quite right and/or relaxed. It means dizzy spells and heart palpitations and random blurry vision. The paramedics said the anxiety makes me not breathe right, so I hyperventilate. Yeah, I called 911 one time when I was home alone; I thought I was having a stroke. I also do not sleep well, so I wake up every morning exhausted, which means I start my day with coffee and switch to Diet Coke at lunch, and then at night move on to a cocktail or two so I can sleep just a little .. and then it starts all over again the next morning. Clearly I am not in top physical shape.
But still, I do not feel obese. I am 5'5" and wear a size 14. Is that obese?! I guess according to the BMI charts, it must be! I definitely realize that I need to lose weight and that I should be exercising. But I would never call myself obese. Am I in denial?
After my Obese Diagnosis, I sent a text message to a good friend (who also struggles with her weight) to tell her my exciting news. We laughed together and sent each other photos of the garbage-y foods we were both consuming at that moment. At one point I commented that hey, we must be OK because our hubbies still seem to find us attractive.
Her reply was: "what choice do they have?"
I have been thinking about that ever since she said it.
Seriously. What choice do our husbands have? They can either a) go find a skinny girl to have an affair with, and ruin everyone's life, or b) climb into bed each night with their overweight, squishy wife who birthed their children and washes their dirty underwear and cooks dinner for them.
Don't our husbands deserve clean homes and yummy dinners AND thin wives?
Why are you hesitating? Of course they do. But, should women really need to be skinny/fit to be attractive to their husbands? Absolutely not.
I am a person who struggles to be fit. My body wants to be plump. I am not fun when I am freaking out about my gym routine and my meal plan. Nobody likes a person who has to weigh their food. I don't want to model that kind of behavior for my children.
I want to serve my family a delicious meal each night that we can all enjoy together at the table. I make our dinners from scratch, down to the lettuce for our nightly salads - I don't buy the pre-washed, bagged stuff. We get takeout or pizza maybe a couple times a month. I want to teach my boys that eating yummy food is a gift we should enjoy. We don't pig out on crap all day long and we don't starve ourselves (I've done both those things and I don't want my boys to assume that is normal behavior in females and therefore choose wives who are extreme in either area).
But I'm still obese!
And I don't like having to fancy up button-hole contraptions for my favorite skirts! What's the alternative? Diet and exercise! Ugh!
Update: I did not tell Poodie about my obese news. Until he went to the doctor the following week and got the same diagnosis. He later learned the heartburn he's suffered from for years is officially GERD. We laughed and laughed at our fat selves and said yes, its time to make some changes around here. I am not looking forward to it.
