JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.
Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Weigh­ty mat­ters

Päivämies-verkkolehti
Vieraskieliset / In-english
6.8.2019 6.05

Juttua muokattu:

23.12. 02:44
2019122302443120190806060500

I am stan­ding in front of a mir­ror and trying to obey the wo­men’s ma­ga­zi­ne that tel­ls me to be con­tent with my­self.

If I face the mir­ror and screw up my ey­es a lit­t­le, I do not look so bad, but stan­ding si­de­wa­ys I feel frust­ra­ted. Where is the nice, slim waist­li­ne that I wan­ted to get back soon af­ter the birth of my yo­un­gest baby? I can see no sign of it in the mir­ror. My ima­ge ac­tu­al­ly looks as if I were still half­way through preg­nan­cy.

I shud­der to think that I should do so­met­hing about it. Yet I know it would be good for my he­alth and self-es­teem, on­ce again, to get rid of the ext­ra twen­ty ki­los that I put on du­ring preg­nan­cy. They came so ea­si­ly and com­for­tab­ly, but not even wil­l­po­wer or ac­ti­ve brain­work will make them go away. The simp­le rule to burn more ca­lo­ries than to take in is not ea­sy to fol­low, at le­ast for me.

I find it hard to ac­cept my weight gain du­ring preg­nan­cy, but there seems to be no way to pre­vent it. My body is like a huge suc­ti­on ap­pa­ra­tus that pul­ls in weight all the more ef­fec­ti­ve­ly as the due date ap­p­ro­ac­hes. For my last six child­ren, I have re­fu­sed to step on the sca­les in the ma­ter­ni­ty cli­nic. Weig­hing would have on­ly inc­re­a­sed my an­xie­ty, even if I had cho­sen to wear light clot­hing or go to the bath­room one more time. The nur­ses have tried to per­su­a­de me to be weig­hed, but I have told them that I very much ap­p­re­ci­a­te Fin­nish ma­ter­ni­ty care, thank you, but will just skip the sca­les. I think it is not right to for­ce an adult in a sen­si­ti­ve frame of mind to be weig­hed if she feels ter­rib­le about it. And sin­ce the nur­ses, and even the doc­tors, would have been unab­le to lift me on the sca­les, they have abi­ded by my de­ci­si­on.

One doc­tor on­ce said to me that my preg­nan­cy see­med to going well and that I had not even gai­ned too much weight. I told him I had ac­tu­al­ly gai­ned more than 20 ki­los. He was as­to­nis­hed and doub­ted if that was even pos­sib­le. When my pa­tient fi­les pro­ved me right, he sta­red at me for a while, cle­ar­ly int­ri­gu­ed by this me­di­cal pro­di­gy. He said such a weight gain should not be pos­sib­le in such a short time and was not even sho­wing in my ap­pe­a­ran­ce. He then went on to say that I pro­bab­ly be­long to the rare group of pe­op­le who suf­fer from swel­ling of the in­ter­nal or­gans in ad­di­ti­on to swol­len ank­les.

Oh, how I felt like laug­hing. In­ter­nal or­gans! This was the first time my thighs were cal­led in­ter­nal or­gans. Any­way, it is good to have a me­di­cal di­ag­no­sis to show that I pos­sess a lar­ge he­art du­ring my preg­nan­cies. The doc­tor al­so exp­lai­ned that such weight gain is part­ly hor­mo­nal and due to al­te­red me­ta­bo­lism, which see­med a per­fect­ly ac­cep­tab­le exp­la­na­ti­on to me. It soun­ded good and plau­sib­le. My dear hus­band poin­ted out, ho­we­ver, that he had ne­ver he­ard cho­co­la­te to be cal­led a hor­mo­ne. But then, he is not a me­di­cal spe­ci­a­list. Just a buil­der.

In Oc­to­ber we had a lo­ve­ly baby boy, and I gu­ess I am now in for my twelfth slim­ming pro­ject. It is not fun, but I made a se­ri­ous New Ye­ar’s re­so­lu­ti­on about He­alt­hy Life. I still che­rish our four-ye­ar-old’s com­ment to his cou­sin at a fa­mi­ly get-to­get­her, “All the ot­hers in our fa­mi­ly are skin­nies ex­cept mom.” I did not feel of­fen­ded. Not in the le­ast. It just strengt­he­ned my de­ter­mi­na­ti­on. I am not even ai­ming at skin­ni­ness, but I would love to fit in­to my clot­hes. Sure enough, I have a set of dif­fe­rent si­zes in my ward­ro­be for the dif­fe­rent sta­ges of the wo­man’s life. I hope some of you have, too.

When I first put on my snow pants and went for a walk, the pants were so tight that I could on­ly take very short steps, which did not exact­ly make me feel eup­ho­ric about my phy­si­cal ac­hie­ve­ment. But I could on­ly blame my­self, my pants were comp­le­te­ly in­no­cent. I just hope I will be brave enough to try them on again soon.

I have of­ten re­mem­be­red the old slo­gan that we used to have on milk car­tons: ”There is a small cow in­si­de each of us.” I have re­a­li­zed that in­si­de me there is still the same yo­ung girl who was as­ha­med of her pro­mi­nent hip bo­nes in high school. Oh, how hap­py I would be now just to feel my hip bo­nes with my fin­gers!

This yo­ung girl in­si­de me has prob­lems re­cog­ni­zing her­self in the mir­ror. I would love to get clo­ser to my ori­gi­nal self again, and I have as­ked ot­hers to help and sup­port me in my slim­ming pro­ject. I al­so as­ked my hus­band to en­cou­ra­ge and sup­port me, be­cau­se I am well awa­re of my we­ak­ness and the temp­ta­ti­ons I will en­coun­ter on the way. I as­ked him to sup­port me if I was ever going to give in and go on an ea­ting bin­ge. He pro­mi­sed to do that. Of cour­se. Isn’t he won­der­ful!

At some point I be­gan to feel like gi­ving up, and when my hus­band was going gro­ce­ry shop­ping, I as­ked him to bring me so­met­hing good. Wai­ting for him to re­turn, I was dre­a­ming of the tas­te of cho­co­la­te on my ton­gue. You can ima­gi­ne my di­sap­point­ment when he brought me a ru­ta­ba­ga. I did not feel like laug­hing then, but I can laugh about it now.

”Ru­ta­ba­ga is good”, my dear hus­band said. It sure is. And he­alt­hy.

Text: Satu Luok­ka­nen

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

You will find the ori­gi­nal Fin­nish blog post here.

18.9.2020

Syn­tim­me ovat meil­le lii­an ras­kaat, mut­ta sinä an­nat ne an­teek­si. Au­tu­as se, jon­ka sinä va­lit­set! Hän saa tul­la luok­se­si ja asua py­hä­kös­sä­si. Ps. 65:4–5

Viikon kysymys