I expected to put up a fair argument as to why I needed to renew my gym membership, two years tardy. I even used my looming birthday as a ploy. But it was all in vain, for my husband is the real deal, quick to gift his wife with her wishes and desires, should they be healthy and realistic. So after I listed off the countless reasons said gym membership would be a healthy addition to my life, his instant response: No brainer. Let’s do it.
If I’m honest, I think my real motivation for the gym membership was fear of gaining weight during pregnancy. I speculate if I start now, I’ll be in good shape when I get pregnant, not to mention help ensure a smooth delivery, and hopefully—Oh Lord, I pray—help me return to my pre-baby body.
Not that I love what I’ve got going on now. Truthfully, I haven’t the fondest appreciation for the beefy legs I’d been born with (especially with nicknames like “Thunder Thighs” haunting me since infancy). And I’d always envied those twiggy types, with their long, lean figures that don’t shy away from shorts in the summertime.
But this new perspective has had an interesting effect on my current self-image. What I’ve cursed before, I am now thankful. A far from firm stomach that is somewhat flat, smallish breasts, hips and a bootie that label me “curvy”.
On the one hand, I begin to look at my body as if it’s actually beautiful. And on the other, I begin to mourn the loss of it, in the stead of giving birth. If I complain about my “pooch” now, what will I think of my lower abdomen then?
My solution: Appreciate the form that God has given me. Literally. I’m talking lingerie and nakedness from here on out. My husband should really enjoy this before it’s gone!
All jokes aside, I do need to work on my perspective. This body here on earth is just a shell. Oh the transformation that is to come! And by then, I won’t even care about me. I’ll be busy praising God. If only I could remember that…