Advanced Maternal Age
I'm getting older. I always thought I would welcome age and in some ways I still do. I'm actually somewhat excited when I spot a "sparkly" hair on my head. My face and hands are aging visibly. I said farewell to my thoughts of ever being my version of beautiful. I'm ok. I consider myself comfortable. Like, I have a face that people are comfortable with but not one that anyone would ever look at and think, "She's really beautiful." You know? And I'm seriously ok with that. I don't need to stand out. I just want to wear cute things that fit me. I want to be able to find just normal things that fit me and don't look terrible.
In August 2020, I fell and hurt my knee. I thought I had broken my kneecap. I didn't. I just bruised it...like they see in ACL tears. It took about a year to heal. I had had our little guy in April 2020, in my 40s. I was trying to exercise to, at minimum, maintain the weight that I was, but with the hopes of losing some of the excess I had gained. With my injury, homeschooling 4 kids, taking care of a baby, and going to school myself, I just gained more. I am at my heaviest now and I don't have any excuse but that I let myself down.
I'm working on it. I'm about to hit 45 and I am learning how to cook differently, to eat differently, and to pay attention to what brings me joy and to make some plans for myself. Plans aside from making appointments for the kids and I, the day-to-day chores, schoolwork, parenting, and church calling.
Anyway, I'm feeling older. And more tired. And more isolated. But more hopeful. And that's where it starts.
Kate
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