I have officially gotten too big to fit into all my pre-pregnancy "fat pants", which was a difficult realization to have first thing in the morning. I wore a pair of jeans that were huge on me a month ago, but that the crazy lady at the jeans store convinced me to buy anyway. So this is officially the largest I have ever been. The strange thing is I've only gained three pounds. I have no idea how this is possible, but there it is.
Husband was supportive but busy at work when I called him in tears, and, to my surprise, the best empathy I found in my day was from a 16 year old client who in recovery from anorexia. He confided in me that he had gained 19 pounds in the last three months, and that the last five pounds were the hardest. Aside from my friends who have already been pregnant, he is probably the best person in my world to understand how it feels to be getting positive feedback about gaining weight and having that be at odds with self-image.
What helped tremendously is that I had a super climbing day today. I got stuck on a really perplexing part of a 5.10B climb and managed to figure it out, with a little help from the cute guy at the front desk. I asked about ordering a body harness for climbing when I get a little bigger, and the woman working the counter was really excited that I planned to climb through my pregnancy. Also my belay partner commented that my endurance seemed better today than in past weeks. I left the gym feeling like superwoman and caring a lot less about the new big jeans.
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