My Body

From a young age I have been taught that my body is special and that I should take care of it. There have been a few, uh, hiccups along the way and my body has born the brunt of it. I have not taken care of my body the way I should have. I am trying to make up for it now.
When we lost Zack I struggled with feelings of failure. My body was designed to house bodies for spirits that needed to come to earth and I had failed to create the perfect body for that special little spirit. As time passed I came to realize that I hadn't failed, I had done what was asked of me and left the rest in Heavenly Father's hands. Some scars had been left though. Scars of doubt in what my body was capable of. Scars that prevented me from trusting my body fully. And scars that left me feeling uncomfortable in the skin that had been stretched over my new shape.
In high school I wasn't one of those girls that was overly critical of their body. In fact, I don't remember ever wanting to change anything about my body. I was happy with it. I felt good in it. When I found a wedding dress I loved it didn't need to be altered at all, I was a perfect size 6. I felt good in my skin. I had always been content with the way I looked and the way my clothes fit. When my body began to change and I began to gain weight it was all new to me. I had never had to watch what I ate. I had never had to try to squeeze into a pair of pants. I had never had to face the fact that I was not happy with what I saw in the mirror. My body and life were changing and I had no idea how to handle it. On top of my own new thoughts concern my body I was very aware that there was also another person that I relied on to feel good in my body. While his opinion of my body hasn't changed, my own opinion has. I was once care free and able to let myself do or wear what every I wanted. Now I am a captive of my body. I let it dictate how I feel, where I go, and what I do. My food issues have become, in part, body issues. The shame I feel for my body makes eating right and exercising even harder.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and just shake my head wondering how I got to this place. I don't mind the stretch marks, those are from my babies. A thought that I find even more disheartening is that after I lose weight I will still have all that extra skin just hanging off me. I wonder if I will ever feel good, feel pretty or desirable.
There are so many issues to conquer right now and I feel like I don't know where to start. Along with my own personal stuff my family and housework demand my attention. There just isn't enough time to deal with it all. It feels very overwhelming at times.