Friday, December 4, 2015


I have found myself in a daily battle with myself. 

I loathe this post baby body.

I am trying my damnedest to get to a better place - some days physically by working out extra hard and some days mentally by just accepting it. One day last week it was mentally; I decided to embrace who I am and took a picture of my belly. It was a moment of weakness honesty. I went to post it to Instagram because we're all about honesty these days and when I searched the hashtag #postbabybody, I found ONE picture of a woman in the same boat as me. Everyone else was in super, incredible shape with muscles and abs and adorable outfits (or lack of outfits) and just looking uber hott. They were promoting a diet or product or supplement, or just themselves. And wow did my stupid, honest little belly pic feel like a joke. 

Ughhh, who the hull posted that water bed of a belly.

With my first baby I ate anything and everything so I easily and quickly gained a lot of weight; unhealthy weight. It took a year of hard workouts, strict diets and dogged determination but I got back to a healthy place - body, mind and lifestyle.

With my last pregnancy I was breastfeeding and the baby weight just fell off with no effort. One day I put my pants on and they literally fell down. It was a magical moment of glee. 

This time, I GAINED mileage of body despite my best efforts. I had a terrible pain in my upper right side when I ate so past 33 weeks I didn't eat much during the day at all. I tried to do workouts mostly focusing on my arms and legs but didn't stave off the pounds either. I was convinced that once I had baby and started breastfeeding, the heavy body I was trapped in would finally surrender and I would lose the weight like I did before. I mean, that's what everyone says happens. "Breast is best and blah blah blah but have you HEARD about how it helps you lose the baby weight?"
Wrong. It didn't. It hasn't. 

I was desperate. I limited my calories to 1600. I was living on fruit and veggie smoothies for a couple weeks. And not a single pound was shed. Not a one. My clothing size is bigger than when I was 9 months pregnant and it's infuriating.

I have never had a very good relationship with food.

This is a part of me I have only talked about with one other person in my life. Like many, maybe most, other girls, I struggled with an eating disorder for a long time. Beginning in middle school I ferociously nitpicked myself and used food as a way to punish and fix myself. It carried over into high school and then into college. It really didn't begin to get better until I met my husband when I was 20. 

Through our relationship he has checked in on me when the thought arose or a concern was developed. I've had to discover how to find value in myself and it began by taking care of who I was. 
Something like an eating disorder isn't something you're cured from, I don't think, because I think about it almost every day. I have triggers and times when my depression leads me to the precipice stress, I'll call it. 

Anyway, all that to say I have a tumultuous relationship with food. A love/hate relationship, if you will, because I f***ing love food. So then my head decides I don't deserve it and my stomach says, "Eff you, controlling asshole!"

There have been two different days where I have found myself fighting back tears and have googled, "Does breastfeeding make you gain weight?" Lo and behold, I found several articles saying that yes, in fact, it can and here are science reasons why. 
Like this super encouraging article:

It's reassuring and encouraging to read posts like that.
And then on a particularly hard day I see a picture circulating on Facebook of Amy Schumer, au naturale, not givin a fuuuuuuu**. (I realize I've censored that word several different ways in this post - whatevs.) And it's *ucking amazing. (See what I did there?)

I think she looks beautiful. I love how ballsy she is in general but to pose with such confidence instills that in people like me. I saw myself in her picture and thought, "She looks what's so different about me?" Nothing. I birthed a freaking human being and it's badass.

So I workout, I drink my kefir, watch my calories, say a prayer and wait for the magical day when my personal nightmare of not recognizing my own body is over.

Until then, #postbabybody. 

My belly button looks like the north star - just in time for Christmas!
In all seriousness, love yourself. I do more now than I have in the past and it's worth it. You're worth it. I promise.