What has weight loss got to do with babyloss? In my world…a lot actually.
For as long as I can remember I have battled with my weight, I’ve been anything from a size 10 to a size 18. What’s worse is I look back on photos when I was a healthy weight and I vividly remember thinking I was ‘fat’. I have put myself down so much so, that I’ve avoided going out or even looking in the mirror, because of my size. I have lived miserably on lettuce leaves and miserably while binging on all the bad stuff. It’s been a vicious cycle for as long as I can remember.
During both my pregnancies my weight has been mentioned as a risk factor, although in Mavy’s pregnancy I was actually on the cusp of what my BMI should be (I was running regularly and a size 12) and was put in the low risk category. In both of my pregnancies my weight ballooned. I tried my best to be healthy. If I fancied pizza for dinner I’d have it, but not before eating a packet of brocolli first to give my baby and my body much needed nutrients (made sense in my crazy mind).
Unfortunately my biggest craving with Mavy was a can of coke. I know, I know, it’s so bad for you. If you’ve read my previous posts you will know I had undiagnosed gestational diabetes so those sugar cravings make sense to me now. Even so I would limit myself to a can a day because I was forever worried about gaining too much weight and the impact that sugar would have on my unborn baby.
The need to overeat was not because of greed during my pregnancies, not all the time anyway. I would feel so ill to the point I would feel like I was going to faint if I had gone 2 hours without eating. I never mentioned this to my midwife….another regret.
Shortly after Mavy’s post mortem I recieved a copy of the letter that the consultant had sent to my doctor. It outlined what had happened and the care I would need to recieve in a subsequent pregnancy. One of the points we had apparently discussed was weight management. I can tell you for certain my weight was never mentioned in that appointment. Talk about kick me while I’m down. I felt like that letter was saying my baby died because I was too fat. I still have these thoughts now. I feel really ashamed.
It was easy to lose some weight after Mavy died because the grief was so intense that eating was almost impossible. As weeks went on though I fell into my usual habits and decided after Christmas I would start ‘dieting’ again.
After I had Nola, I wasnt bothered about my weight gain because I had a newborn baby with me. A sign to the outside world that I was post partum so of course was carrying more weight than usual. Breastfeeding really helped me drop weight and I was back to feeling okay about myself within a year.
This time around it has been different, for a few reasons. Firstly, I have no newborn baby so my post partum body feels cruel and unfair. Secondly, a part of me relates this extra weight to Mavy and losing it would feel like losing more of her. I’m aware of how ridiculous that sounds but that really is the truth.
I have always enjoyed running and have recently started practising Yoga. (Yoga needs a blog post of it’s own for the positive impact it has had on me). However, I have recently discovered I have a twisted pelvis which I’m currently under treatment with a chiropractor for. So now Yoga is limited and running is completely off the cards for now.
So the plan for now? I really don’t know. Be kind to myself. Try to remind myself that I am working hard to build up my strength and feel healthy again – this isnt just a vanity thing. This is about how weak I feel. Physically and emotionally.
I feel really frustrated that I have to rehabilitate my post partum body but didnt get to bring my baby home. In fact sometimes I feel really angry about it. It shouldn’t be like this.
Writing this is hard. Talking about my weight is really uncomfortable. Though, what’s the point in blogging if I dont write about the reality of this journey? I’d love to hear from any bereaved mums who have been through this battle.
Sending love to all those loss parents and the friends and family that support them.