19 years old
1 pregnancy, 1 birth
3 1/2 months PP
In March of 2010, I met the man who would give me our beautiful son. I was the epitome of the typical (stereotyped) 18 year old, I stopped going to school to party all night and sleep all day. All I cared for was getting high, getting drunk, getting s*x. School wasn’t important, they told me I wasn’t going to graduate with my class (of ’10), so I gave up on going.
I got kicked out of my house a couple weeks after my 18th birthday (Feb. 26th), and spent a couple weeks bouncing from house to house until I met my fiancé. I moved in with him permanently, with a very strong intention to start a relationship.
Within about three weeks of us living together and being together, he asked if we could try to have a baby. I agreed wholeheartedly. I’m still not sure why, it just seemed like a good idea. Well, I was pregnant the next month. I had figured out my approximate window of time where I was ovulating, and two weeks later I missed my period (I was always regular). I took a pregnancy test and I was pregnant! We were so excited, but we were the only ones. Everyone likes to form their own opinions: “too young”, “too soon into the relationship”, etc. I didn’t care, I was extremely happy.
I was 134lbs before pregnancy. within the first four months, I had dropped to 114lbs because I suffered from hyperemesis gavidarum. I was not hospitalized for it. I was only able to drink Pepsi (I don’t know why), and I could barely keep any food down. I was vomiting maybe seven times a day at the most, mainly when I got up the courage to try to eat something. I was always tired, but I pushed myself to go to “work” (I babysat three children next door from around 5-6pm until 2-3am) because it was the only income we had at the time. Eventually, I got so weak that I just could not bear the thought of babysitting, and I called off working for her one day (She didn’t even have work, she just wanted to go tan at the beach), and she fired me.
I was exhausted, but I was so happy to be 114lbs. I’d always struggled with my weight and body image. Even at 125lbs, I thought I was fat. I got stretch marks when I was only 13 (I hit puberty at 11) and my chest size when from a B to a D in one summer. I was around 127lbs, and I was horrified. I’m only 5’2″, and I felt terribly chunky. I knew I was predispositioned to be curvy, but I was a stick before, so I honestly had no idea what “curvy” meant.
114lbs was the thinnest I’d been since I was around 12. I didn’t “hate” that I’d only achieved the weight b/c I was pregnant, but you can bet I wished I could be that weight afterwards!
I didn’t start showing until about the end of my 5th month, but I was still happy with my weight, my shape (I was all belly at the time), everything.
By the end of my pregnancy, I weighed around 157lbs. I started suffering from depression again (I was diagnosed with MDD-Major Depressive Disorder at age 14) when I hit 145lbs. After I gave birth, my weight only went down to 154lbs. My son was born a healthy 6 lbs, 13 oz, but I hadn’t even lost that much! I was so disappointed.
To top it off, I had a very hard birth. My epidural only worked partially (on my legs, they might as well have not been there for how much I could feel them), so I had horrible, painful back labor, my midwife would not let my fiancé or my Mum help me with holding my legs at my chest (I don’t know why). I got an episiotomy at the very end of my 18 hour labor (three hours pushing) and my beautiful baby boy was born three pushes later at 1:56pm on January 12th, 2011.
I decided to breastfeed early on, and I am proud to say I still am (despite a nasty case of mastitis 3wks PP). I went down to about 147lbs in two weeks, but I haven’t gone below 153lbs since the end of 1 month PP. I was told by many nurses and midwives that the baby weight just melts off when you breastfeed. This has not been true for me, but I’m not going to stop feeding my son breastmilk just because of the stubborn fat.
I absolutely hate to look in the mirror though. All I see is fat everywhere. My thighs touch almost down to my knees, my stomach is poochy, stretched marked and squishy. My boobs are alright, I’m used to them being huge and they didn’t really get many stretch marks, I already had some from puberty, but I’d never been terribly self-conscious of those.
I wear a size 15. I get upset a lot going clothes shopping (which I don’t really do) because most of the stores I like to shop at, I can’t find my size. I went to the mall with my fiancé for my 19th bday, and I cried because I could not find one pair of pants that fit. I couldn’t even find a bra, because at the time I had shot up to a DD. I still grab shirts that would fit my prepregnancy body when I’m shopping. Sometimes I laugh when I realize my mistake, and sometimes I get very sad. I have absolutely no will to exercise, it never helped me much before. I look back at the body I used to have and I wonder why I was so unhappy with it. I’d love to be a size 5 again. At one point, I fit into a 0, but that’s way too much to ask for lol.
My fiancé is very supportive. He thinks I look just fine. He supports me wanting to lose weight, but I get mad and accuse him of thinking I’m fat when he asks me if I want to exercise or if he suggests buying an array of chocolate bars is not a good idea (I’ve always been a chocoholic).
I don’t believe him when he says I look fine, I’m always putting myself down. Sometimes it gives me a spark of happiness when he says I look good. Because I want to believe that I do. I want to feel like I do. One of my younger sisters asked me how I’m going to fit in a wedding dress if I’m so fat. She also told me I still look pregnant.
I hope that sometime soon I feel good in clothes and out of them. My goal weight is 130lbs by my wedding date, November 12th of this year. I have to be careful about rapid weight loss while breastfeeding though. I hope I can do it.
1st picture: Me in May of ’09
2nd picture: 8 months pregnant
3rd picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
4th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
5th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
6th picture: 3 1/2 mos PP
7th picture: My son Ruskin Damian Dodge, 3 1/2mos
8th picture: My son again
9th picture: My beautiful family