Building steps

This afternoon I realized something. This is the kind of sad that doesn't go away. This is kind of devastation that could keep me in the bed for as long as I let it. That is the key. How long am I going to let it control me?

At least a little bit longer, but not 24/7.

Guy came in this afternoon, and remember, we are still in Tennessee, 11 hours from home, staying at my parents' house, and says, "I really need to get some air."

I had two choices. I could let him go alone, or I could, for him, get out of the bed and attempt to go somewhere. I chose to get out of the bed.

It wasn't easy. He helped me shower. He helped me get dressed. We decided, as the dressing occurred, that we would go to the mall and buy me some non-maternity clothes. I had packed nothing but maternity clothes for our trip, and that was one thing keeping me from getting up and getting dressed. I chose the least maternity looking clothes I had and went with it.

The funny thing is, I loved looking pregnant. I have had incredibly sorry body image for so long, and as soon as that belly popped, I couldn't stop looking in the mirror. It was amazing to me - the changes that were occurring and how beautiful they were. I loved the belly.

Now, I'm obsessed with not looking pregnant anymore. I'm talking about buying a treadmill. Eating plain baked potatoes. Eating nothing. Whatever - I just don't want to be mistaken (there's that prefix again) for a pregnant woman.

There are things that the doctor here did that I think were both medical and for my emotional stability. One of those things was the drug he gave me to shrink my uterus. I understand that it also helped the bleeding and what not, but it was a real gift to stand in front of the mirror this afternoon and not look pregnant anymore. Side note: the doctor who didn't know me from adam took the most amazing and precious care of me. If you find yourself in Jackson and in need of a doctor, you should so email me right now.

The crazy part is, we did buy some new jeans. They are a freaking size 16, but we bought some new jeans. I cannot believe I just admitted that. Back to the crazy part though - I was still happy with the way I looked in the mirror. A gift from my baby. Decent body image. Am I reaching for a positive? Maybe.

It's going to take a hell of a lot of them to climb out of this hole though. One tiny positive at a time.