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
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| 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.
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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 of...food 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: http://www.popsugar.com/moms/
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 amazing...so 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.
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| My belly button looks like the north star - just in time for Christmas! |
