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A confession.

{via}
I have a confession to make… I hate being pregnant. 
Of course I don’t hate the outcome; we are so excited to add sweet baby P to our family this winter and I am SO blessed to get pregnant as easily as I have.
But if we’re being honest, I hate the weight gain. It makes me so uncomfortable and it depresses me to look in my closet at the size 2 jeans I fit in when I got pregnant and know that I won’t fit into them for a long time. 
A lot of women embrace pregnancy and like watching their belly grow. Me? All I see is fat. Chalk it up to previous eating disorders and self image issues but I just can’t help it. I can’t stand how I feel and even if I watch what I eat and stay active, the number just keeps rising on the scale. 
Like I posted a few weeks ago, I’ve fluctuated weight my entire life. I have no problem dressing for my size but it’s past that point now; it’s consumed me… it’s how I feel all the time. I lack the confidence, and in turn, I become an introvert. I don’t like my picture taken, I don’t want to attend social events, and I even feel embarrassed in front of Z… my own husband! 
I know the weight goes away, and in exchange, I receive a beautiful and healthy baby. But it doesn’t happen overnight, and I have such a hard time with the realization that it won’t be until next summer or fall that I truly feel comfortable in my own skin again. 
Eye on the prize; I am lucky enough to be able to carry my own child and I need to remember that when it all comes down to it, how I look doesn’t matter. I’m not going to indulge in 5 Big Mac’s and 3 ice cream cakes anytime soon, but I’m also going to try and worry less about what’s on the outside, and more on what’s on the inside.
Especially our growing baby girl. 

 

“She’s addicted to Diet Coke and loves designing pretty things…Check her out!”

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