I’ve got some bad news, my friends. Not real, heartbreaking bad news. But the kind where you can only find humor in it otherwise it will take you right down with it.
So here it is: I have gained 20 pounds since May.
This is not a plea to hear “no, Lindsay- you’re fine just the way you are!” or anything of the like. This is simply me coming to terms with the truth. And because my sweet husband is tired of hearing me freak out about it- I have decided to share with you the little moments of laughter I have had to find in the many downfalls of the past few months. Afterall- Laughter really can heal your brokenness.
One- My weight. Okay, so 20 pounds may not sound like a ton, but let me tell you- my pants are a tad snug. The day we found out we were losing the baby, a sweet little nurse came in and pulled me from my tears to let me know that they needed to take my weight. AWESOME. So there I am, standing on the old time scale. It’s the one that has two rows for measurement- the top one goes up by one pound, and the bottom by 50. So you move the bottom one to say, 100. Then move the top to 30 ish. Then you have your weight of 130. Or so I wished that awful day. There I was, eyes red from crying, standing on the scale. In retrospect I should have turned away from the numbers, hide from the truth of my misfortune. She moved the top scale over, then some more, and a little more (okay a lot), and as she got to the very end of the top scale, she stopped. I could see here mind running- “do I move the second scale over and ruin this girl’s day even more, or do I pretend this is correct and simply guess her final weight?” She opted for the latter and I am forever thankful.
Two- Paul was out of town for work one week in June. It was maybe 3 weeks after all that happened and I was still not put back together emotionally. So one Friday night, after sitting alone for far too long, eating too much takeout, and getting into conversations with my dog, I decided this was a little ridiculous. I have always been one to take my happiness into my own hands, so I thought “I am going to Target to get myself a ‘get well’ gift! That will make it all better!” (insert laughter here). So there I was, at Target, in line to purchase my basket of goodies. Bahha. As the Target girl started to ring things up, I began to feel the deep dread of my purchases. I may have gotten a little red as I realized what my items made me look like. In my basket I had: a pair of shorts 4 sizes bigger than “normal,” a Jillian Michaels work out tape to get me some 10 minute abs, Slimfast drinks, a baggy mens t-shirt, and a Spanx tank top to take away my muffin top. I know what you are thinking: “Seriously, Lindsay?!” Well, my sweet friend, it gets worse. You know the coupon that gets printed off with your receipt that says “based on your purchases, we think you could use this coupon in the future.” Well, out comes a coupon for pampers diapers and pacifiers. Yeah, here I was buying my big clothes, workout regimen tapes, and my Spanx. But no- I am not a mother and no- I do not need diapers or pacifiers. Just a woman lost in herself. Well, I got home, realized my sadness couldn’t be fixed at Target, and called my older sister to ease my pain. We hung out for the night and all we could do was laugh off my misfortune and my broken heart- which surprisingly helped a lot. As for my purchases, everything found itself in a box high in my closet. Except the Spanx. Those are just necessary.
Three- See my older post here. Its all about how beautiful it is to laugh through pain, and how friends can heal your heart.
Thanks for listening.
One- My weight. Okay, so 20 pounds may not sound like a ton, but let me tell you- my pants are a tad snug. The day we found out we were losing the baby, a sweet little nurse came in and pulled me from my tears to let me know that they needed to take my weight. AWESOME. So there I am, standing on the old time scale. It’s the one that has two rows for measurement- the top one goes up by one pound, and the bottom by 50. So you move the bottom one to say, 100. Then move the top to 30 ish. Then you have your weight of 130. Or so I wished that awful day. There I was, eyes red from crying, standing on the scale. In retrospect I should have turned away from the numbers, hide from the truth of my misfortune. She moved the top scale over, then some more, and a little more (okay a lot), and as she got to the very end of the top scale, she stopped. I could see here mind running- “do I move the second scale over and ruin this girl’s day even more, or do I pretend this is correct and simply guess her final weight?” She opted for the latter and I am forever thankful.
Two- Paul was out of town for work one week in June. It was maybe 3 weeks after all that happened and I was still not put back together emotionally. So one Friday night, after sitting alone for far too long, eating too much takeout, and getting into conversations with my dog, I decided this was a little ridiculous. I have always been one to take my happiness into my own hands, so I thought “I am going to Target to get myself a ‘get well’ gift! That will make it all better!” (insert laughter here). So there I was, at Target, in line to purchase my basket of goodies. Bahha. As the Target girl started to ring things up, I began to feel the deep dread of my purchases. I may have gotten a little red as I realized what my items made me look like. In my basket I had: a pair of shorts 4 sizes bigger than “normal,” a Jillian Michaels work out tape to get me some 10 minute abs, Slimfast drinks, a baggy mens t-shirt, and a Spanx tank top to take away my muffin top. I know what you are thinking: “Seriously, Lindsay?!” Well, my sweet friend, it gets worse. You know the coupon that gets printed off with your receipt that says “based on your purchases, we think you could use this coupon in the future.” Well, out comes a coupon for pampers diapers and pacifiers. Yeah, here I was buying my big clothes, workout regimen tapes, and my Spanx. But no- I am not a mother and no- I do not need diapers or pacifiers. Just a woman lost in herself. Well, I got home, realized my sadness couldn’t be fixed at Target, and called my older sister to ease my pain. We hung out for the night and all we could do was laugh off my misfortune and my broken heart- which surprisingly helped a lot. As for my purchases, everything found itself in a box high in my closet. Except the Spanx. Those are just necessary.
Three- See my older post here. Its all about how beautiful it is to laugh through pain, and how friends can heal your heart.
Thanks for listening.
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