Guys, I’m in midterm
week month, so blogs may be shorter or non-existent until things settle down over here in Crazy Town. But it’s Tuesday so let’s not forget why it’s good to be here instead of the alternative.
It’s become a nasty word in the world these days, wouldn’t you say?
Gaining weight. Weight of the world. Light-weight.
It’s not too long ago that the word weight carried a negative connotation to me as well. Yet recently, I’ve begun to embrace it.
There is nothing more comforting or calming to me than to feel the weight of my husband against me.
A hug, a hand, or when he is recruited to be my blanket because I just can’t get warm enough in the winter. I breathe easier, my heart rate slows down, and I almost always fall asleep.
When I was recovering from surgery, it was all about the weight. Was I eating? Was it leaving me properly in my new device? Too fast? Too slow? Was I gaining weight?
Despite one person’s comment that my 20 pound weight loss was (after a 5-day hospital stay and one organ removed) “looking good” on me, gaining weight was a top priority post-op. Both times post-op, actually.
GI surgery means things get scary in that world and weight gain = success!!! Normally a dirty phrase in my world, I was thrilled to see the scale headed back toward my normal.
I was healthy again. Weight was a good thing.
And there is nothing in the world that feels better than having the weight of a baby on your shoulder as you rock her to sleep.
My sister-in-law was always asking if it was too much for me to have her lying on me or if she was heavy in my arms. Heavy? Psh. Weight is no matter when my little Peanut needs to be rocked to sleep. I shooed her away and held Peanut as long as I possibly could.
Like Obi-wan says, there is no house so peaceful as the house of a newborn baby.
I don’t mind feeling the weight anymore. It reminds me to be calm, to be grateful, to be present. And that’s certainly Better Than the Alternative.
Now go out and run.