Parting of Ways

I did some purging in my closet last Sunday. And the casualty: most of my pre-pregnancy clothes.

I spent the whole day trying on everything and then chucking some out if they don't fit my current body shape anymore or if they don't look halfway decent on postpartum me. Sadly, there are a lot of them - shirts, blouses, pants, jeans and the occasional dresses (I don't wear much dresses or skirts) - that I had a hard time putting on.

Either they are too tight on the shoulders and on my midsection or, for jeans and pants, too small that they can no longer go past my thighs.  *whimpers*  Even the ones I've managed to cajole up my waist stubbornly won't zip up. *more whimpering*  As for the shirts and blouses, talk about being suffocated by my own clothes. How the hell did I fit in these clothes before?!? It was as if a stranger moved out of our home and left these unusable junk in my closet.

My husband thought it wise to not be in my way. He knew that whenever I'm purging my stuffs, it's always a long and agonizing process. He just popped in for a second to remind me to leave his part of the closet alone. He's always afraid that I would sneak some of his favorite t-shirts (and never-worn-yet-very-sentimental-shirts) in my giveaway-to-goodwill pile.

He would occasionally peek in the room every time I let out a frustrating groan. "Why are you torturing yourself?" he asked, looking perplexed at the explosion of clothes on the bed and on the floor. "Well I'd like to give each one a chance to prove themselves before I give them up," I said, huffing and puffing from my effort. "It's like Project Runway, I have to see which ones I should say Auf Wiedersehen to." 

"But you don't have to get rid of them. With consistent workouts, you can fit in them again, you know," he casually said, as if the word 'workout' is something I can buy in CVS or Walgreens, lather it on my body (especially on my belly pouch) and magically melt the excess weight off.

I shooed him out of the room and got back to wrestling with my clothes. It felt like I was playing dress-up the whole time. "Coming down the runway is the muffin-top look, a trend so popular among postpartum women. Now here comes the kangaroo-look, it comes with a free spare tire in the middle. Oh that stunning pig-in-a-blanket look never goes out of style."

It seemed like I was having fun purging. But in reality, I was having a hard time letting go. Who wouldn't? Those clothes and I have history. We've been through school, vacations and happy hours together. They fit me to a tee, which is rare for this small Asian woman, who often couldn't find clothes that fit just right in the women's section. 

I know it'd be nice to be able to fit in my pre-pregnancy clothes again. Who wouldn't want that really? It's every mother's dream, BLMs or not. Will I be able to go back to them through perseverance and tons of workout? Maybe someday. But right now, those clothes are skewing my goal of becoming healthy. Instead of letting me focus on overall well-being, they just make me obsess with getting thinner. And I don't want that to happen. So I parted ways with those clothes.

As I stuff the lot of them inside a big, black garbage bag, I realized life has changed for me, emotionally and physically. I got pregnant with Kai, gained weight, and then gave birth to him. Eventhough he didn't come out alive, there's no denying the fact that my body changed to reflect on what occurred, that of giving birth and becoming a mother to Kai.

It may not be the consolation I had hoped for, but it's a precious reminder of what I now hold dear in this changed life.