The brunette twin already has body issues and it bothers both of us a lot. She's obsessed with being thin. It might be because she's the tallest (aka the biggest) in her class. It might be because her sister is so "don't you feed that girl" thin. It might be because all the girls on Disney shows are scary thin. In any case, she spends a lot of time worrying about whether or not she is still thin.
In her innocence, she recently asked me, "Will I be thin like my cousin or will I be big like you?" I assured her she would be thin like the cousin she's most likely to grow up to look like. We have a photo of this cousin when she was about three years old. If we show it to anyone, they say, "What a cute photo of the brunette twin." We're pretty sure she'll look a lot like this cousin when she grows up.
What I wanted to say was "You know, Mommy didn't start out this big. It took five years of infertility drugs and other medications to help me get this way." I wanted to tell her that I spent months feeling so sick and tired that I could hardly move. I wanted to tell her how sore my stomach and hips were from all the shots I gave myself and others gave me. I wanted to tell her that for years Mommy didn't wear anything except elastic waist pants because her stomach and hips were so bruised and swollen from all the medications that the pressure from regular pants would make her cry. I wanted to tell her that Mommy is working on being healthier every day, but it's harder than it looks. I wanted to say that if I had an hour or two every day to spend at the gym, I could get back to "wedding weight" in faster time.
I didn't say any of that, of course. She's seven. All I want her to know is she's beautiful as she is and help her develop a better body image. Some day when she's older we'll have a different conversation. My baggage can stay in my head for now.