Firstly if you have lost a lot of weight and are really proud of the figure staring back at you when you step on the scales then you may mention that figure. But unsurprisingly I'm not commenting on that today.
I want to chat about the second exception to the role: when you are pregnant. Weighing yourself is part of the frequent check ups and gets recorded on your little yellow card. You question how much is too much? How will you lose it? How much of that is baby?
At 41 weeks I weighed 102kg. It was painful to see the number rise above 100. Logically I knew that I was growing a human being and my body had changed to support that growth. I knew I was eating fairly healthy. And I knew that a great deal of that was water and baby related fluid. Also my midwife wasn't concerned about the steady gains. Rational thought doesn't mean anything to former anorexic who was already over conscious of her 80kgs before she got pregnant.
Now that Tiny Human is outside my body the scales remain an evil enemy. My scales says 90kg and my body says ew! Now I hate my icky body but there is little I can do about it. Dieting is not quite recommended when one is breastfeeding. In fact it is recommended that new breastfeeding mums don't lose more than one kilo a month! A month!!!! That means by the time the little guy turns one, I would be back to my pre-baby weight, which was too heavy already. Of course I don't need to listen to this guideline, but I do have to eat enough to produce good quality and a good quantity of milk.
My weight and body will continue to be a topic on my mind until I can gain some kind of control of it. Whilst I struggle with the high number on the scale when I step on it, I will also be forced to obsess about the number that blinks back at me when I put Kingsley on the scale.
The last exception to the "don't talk about weight" rule is that of a new born. It's one of the first stats mentioned when he first comes out and everyone wants to know. Then weighing your bub becomes a weekly obsession. It also feels like a direct reflection of me and my ability to look after my child especially because I'm breast feeding.
Kingsley was a big baby at 4.56 and was long rather than chubby. His size was talked about with every midwife at the hospital and by every visitor and well wisher from our lives. This initially didn't bother me one bit. It was kind of fun to have this large baby that people wanted to talk about.
Then he got weighed on discharge at 4.35 and I was pleased that he had lost so little weight. Why was I pleased? It could have been because it meant he was healthy but it was most likely because it made me feel like I was doing something right. As a breastfeeding mum, it meant that I was able to provide enough for my bubba to avoid him losing too much of his fat stores.
Then we got home and things changed a little. He was weighed a few times and suddenly it looked like his weight had gone down. What was this about? What had I done wrong? How was I failing my child? Why was my body not doing what it meant to do my bubba? These are the things that ran through my mind. It was all about me. My child's weight was a direct refection of me and my ability to care for him. Everything I did was called into question.
Almost a week later, things were not much better and again I was doubting myself. Was I not enough? Would I have to give up on breastfeeding? It seemed to cut to my core. Why is that?
A few weeks ago a friend of mine had a stranger comment on a picture of her son. The stranger said her son looked malnourished and she should feed him. This random comment felt like a direct attack on her and she opened up about her birth story and the days following in which feeding her son was more than a challenge due to the complications in birth. She felt she needed to defend herself and comment on just how touchy the topic of food and her child is. It highlighted for me the pressure on parents (especially mother's?) to ensure their child is growing and putting on weight as they should (or as other's perceive they should?).
So, when I weighed my son on Monday and he came in at 4.72 it felt like I was vindicated. I had fed my son and given him what he needed. I was being a good mother. I was providing for my child.
As I work to make the number decrease when I step on a scale and try even harder to make sure the number increases when the baby is weighed I want to remind myself to take it easy... but I know I won't. These are the pressures of being a woman and a mother in our society. And the added pressure of my high expectations on myself.
How much do you weigh?
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