Are you pregnant or just fat?

One of the hardest things I think about working with the public, especially with a generally older population, is that old people have no filter. It's honestly like working with children. They have no problem telling you exactly what they are thinking. And you're left there to just smile and pretend like their brutal honestly hasn't just broke you.

A month or so ago I was at a client's house doing an assessment. I had on what I thought was a cute top, pinstripe button-up 3/4 sleeve, with a mock black vest on top, paired with some cute black pants and flats. I actually felt good about how I looked when I went to work that day. My day was going great until the words "So are you pregnant or just fat?" came out of her mouth. I smiled graciously and said "Just fat", when inside I wanted to die. The appointment was the longest 15 minutes of my life. I just wanted out of her house and into my car to cry. Which is exactly what I did, I sat in my car and cried.

Not only was her comment hurtful because yes, I am bigger, but unknown to her, and most people I know, I suffered a chemical pregnancy in March and should have been 36ish weeks pregnant at that time (it was a surrogate baby, not mine). So it stung a lot more than it would have on a normal day. 

Which brings me to the whole point of this post. It is NEVER ok to make comment or judgement on someone's weight. And it is NEVER ok to ask if someone is pregnant, or assume every "belly" on a woman is a baby belly. I have had 6 children, 2 miscarriages, and countless IVF transfers that have either failed or ended in chemical pregnancies. Oh and two of those children I gave birth to were twins. I also have endometriosis and irritable bowel syndrome. On a good day I look like I am sporting a baby bump and on a bad day I can look like I am due at any moment. I also am a recovering anorexic and binge eater. To look at me you would never know that a year ago I was consuming 1000 calories a day in attempt to get down below 200 lbs, and that I was seeing a dietician to try and combat my emotional binge eating. 

I know I shouldn't judge my worth based on my weight or what others think of it, but my weight is the one thing that I rip myself apart over. I'd love to wear a crop top and leggings and not worry about the snickering and the stares. I got the courage to wear a haltertop sans bra and shorts to a concert in August and I felt like everyone was staring at me. I felt so self conscious. 

This body housed 8 babies and safely grew 6 of them. It has calmed many nightmares and night terrors, held many secrets, wiped many tears. It has helped saved lives, held hands when someone was scared, rocked babies to sleep, helped make 2 families. And yet I hate it, for no other reason than society has put it into my head that bigger girls are worthless.

I'll never been a size 4 again. The fact that I was a size 4 in my 20's actually disturbs me. Size 6 was my "fat pants" at work for the days I was bloated. That was not a healthy version of me. That version of me ate lettuce for lunch and a yogort cup for dinner and called that a cheat day. She lived at the gym and was running on a calorie deficit for so long. 

I honestly wish I could just be easier on myself and just love the body I am in. 

**this is where I would make the joke of a cow sitting on a cow because that's how I handle this kind of stuff***