Tomorrow I am getting a Colonoscopy

(Should I have a safe word?)

I wrote this blog post on Sunday night, and scheduled it for Friday. Since then, I got really sick again. So I have a colonoscopy scheduled for tomorrow. I'm a little freaked out, but also hopeful that I'll actually get some answers! Say some prayers for me. Anyway. Here you go:

A couple weeks ago, after a long bought of pretty gross symptoms- I finally went to the doctor.

It's hard to go to the doctor when you're a mom, because you have to be really sick in order for the struggle to find a sitter (or the hassle of bringing your children with you) to be worth it.

And even though I'd been feeling sick on and off for about a year- it was never TOO sick or for TOO long. Every time I'd think, "Okay, it's time. I'm going in to the doctor this week" I'd recover and feel fine again and decide I didn't really want to go to the doctor after all.

I'm being vague, because my troubles were... Gastric and digestive in nature. And thereby, totally gross.

And yet I finally went and sat in a waiting room, and then a nurse led me back to the doctors office and had me step on a scale in the hallway. The scale flashed in kilograms and not pounds.

"What's my weight, then?" I asked.

"114 pounds," said the nurse. She said it so casually, without even looking up.

And I felt sick. Crippling, panic-induced nausea washed over me.

One hundred and fourteen pounds.

The only acceptable reason for me to weigh so little is because I am dying.

She told me my weight and I suddenly became much more worried about my health.

I am five foot, seven inches.

When I graduated high school I weighed between 120-125. When I was 20 years old and got married, I was 145ish. (Hello, Freshman 15... Or 20. Come on in, stay awhile.)

At my most-pregnant, I was about 165, and in between pregnancies I've stayed between 125-130.

There you go.

Those are my weights.

It is horrible and weird, personal and frightening to share your weight with other people- even when you're thin.

Sometimes I feel guilty telling people my weight because I'm thin, since I'm pretty sure it's just genetics. 

It's true I don't drink alcohol (or really even soda), and I don't eat fast food. But I do eat a lot of homemade bread and butter, freshly baked cakes and cookies, and I try to avoid all exercise at all costs.

But I haven't weighed 114 since I was fifteen years old.

That's anorexic teenager weight. That's unacceptable for child-bearing mothers who are making milk and hauling toddlers.

I don't actually know what's wrong yet, but I don't think you should be too worried. I was given an extremely broad range of possibilities from Krohns and cancer on down to parasites and salmonella (with things like Celiacs and thyroid troubles in the middle).

But my doctor did say that essentially, I'm malnourished. Despite eating, my body is starving. I'm not taking in nutrients the way I should and am wasting away.

He said all these things, and he said the words "114 pounds" and he told me I haven't been getting my period, not because I'm growing a tiny person- but because I can't even take care of my own person.

And I know all those things are true. I know that they are facts.

And then, I look in the mirror and I think "This is the thinnest you've ever been, it is gross. It's unhealthy. You look sallow. I want to be a healthy weight, I want to weigh 130- but I don't want to be fatter than this."

I went hiking with my baby strapped to my back and I felt tired and weak while I climbed up a mountain and yet, I also found myself looking down at where the straps from the baby carrier normally cut into the flesh of my stomach and thinking "Look at how flat your stomach is. That's awesome."

These thoughts are contradictory. It doesn't even make sense that I can think them at the same time.

How can I possibly know and understand that I am unhealthy, that I can't have more children until this is fixed, that I NEED to gain weight, and yet be afraid and kind of grossed out by gaining weight?

For the record, I don't suffer from anorexia or bulimia- but over the last few weeks as I've processed my new sickly-information, I started to understand these women who want to be thin so badly that they let themselves be sick- because I experienced a new fear of getting fat. Of being ordered by my doctor to eat double the amount of food I normally take in, and understanding and agreeing that I needed to do that, but also being grossed out.

and honestly, it makes me mad.

I feel angry at a society that tells women that we should be unhealthy, that the physical ideals that we hold are more important than being capable and strong.

I didn't realize that I was even influenced by these stupid societal rules, because I'm self-confident. Because I see other women who are strong, healthy, and not thin and I think "You're gorgeous. You're amazing." I have never felt uncomfortable in my own skin- whether I was 165 and hugely pregnant or 120 and skinny-mini.

But the truth is, maybe I didn't care about societal norms, because I basically fit them. Tall and thin? Yep.

I don't need to be depressed when I see magazine covers because I am shaped like those women. Sure, my breasts are tiny and wrinkled from nursing, but big breasts are a pain and at least my thighs don't touch.

What is wrong with us? Why do women do this to themselves? Even now, writing this, I feel afraid of the response that it could get- because I know there are probably women who wish they got sick and lost 20 pounds. I feel afraid of gaining weight, I feel afraid of being the weight that I am.

We actually don't own a scale, and never have.

We might have gotten one at our wedding, but it was promptly returned to the store.

I don't care what my weight is. Not really.

Or maybe, I do care- and know I shouldn't, so I deprive myself of the means of weighing myself.

But whatever the reason, I've tried hard to never determine my self worth by those numbers. 

I want to be happy. I want to be comfortable in my own skin.

I want people to stop declaring "real women have curves." And to stop telling me "You look amazing, you're so thin!" when I actually look kind of sickly. Just let everybody be their own weight without commentary!

I almost never see people and think "She could do with losing a few pounds" or any variance on that.

Our own worst critics are ourselves. The only people holding us to society's demands are ourselves. And I want to be healthy. I want to be strong. I want to carry my baby up a mountain. I want to grow another person. I want to run and not be weary, walk and not faint.

And that is more important than my weight. It is more important for me to be strong than to be able to squeeze into my skinniest jeans.

I wanted to share this, even though it's uncomfortable and a bit damning, so that you know- it doesn't matter what your body looks like, we all still feel this way. We all still feel like we are not thin enough, like we don't look the way we expected. I weigh less than I did when I went to junior prom and I still feel stressed about gaining weight back that I had just a few months ago.

And honestly, this blog is my sounding board, because when I write all these things down- I'm not afraid anymore. When I get my feelings written down in all their contradictory glory, I can look objectively and say, "Oh, right. That's crazy talk."

And when I have people reading and commenting and saying "You go girl!" I feel stronger and better and more capable. It holds me accountable to make the right choice with my body.

But I can do this.

And we, as women, can do this. We can fix it.

We can choose to be healthy and strong over having weak, socially acceptable bodies. We can teach our children to love themselves by not insulting our own shapes or theirs.

I am going to show my kids, it doesn't matter what the numbers on the scale say: I will find the best, healthiest version of myself and I will be her. (As long as that version doesn't have to run and is allowed to make chocolate cakes.)

I will give myself pep-talks like this blog post every time I am not living up to my ideals. And when I am afraid of gaining weight (or losing weight) I will look at my strong, amazing, beautiful girl friends who are phenomenal mothers, sisters, friends and try to be more like them. Because those are the societal requirements I wish I was expected to live up to.