My home, my body

There are lots of mommy bloggers I follow who always seem have their hair and makeup done and their kids are always pristinely dressed. I’m not one of those bloggers. 

Nine months ago I wrote a blog about my feelings regarding my postpartum body, how hard it was to look at my newly plus sized figure. I was just three months into this momming business. I hadn’t slept more than two hours a night for 90 days. I was breastfeeding and pumping constantly to increase my supply. I was basically chained to my couch underneath a baby who was eating or who would only sleep while I was holding him. And yet I expected that I’d bounce back immediately. 

I wish I could go hang out on the couch and hug the me of nine months ago, then I’d make her a sandwich and hold the baby while she ate it. Ethan just turned one and I’m only NOW starting to really lose my baby weight. I do go to the gym 4-5 days a week now, but it’s not so much about my calorie burn as it is carving out an hour or so a day just for myself. Time to be alone in my thoughts while jogging or lifting weights or just walking on a treadmill watching a movie. Now I can do that. Nine months ago I couldn’t. That’s not to say others can’t, I know people who ran marathons a few months after giving birth.  I wasn’t one of those people. I didn’t have that kind of baby. That’s okay. I wish I’d known that was okay.

So much has changed between my body and me over the last year or so. My body is bigger and softer now than it has ever been before, but I’m also at peace in it–something I can’t ever remember being. This may be the first time in my 34 years that my body has felt like my home.  I am thankful for it in a way I have never been before. It got me through the hardest physical year of my life. It made and nourished another human being. It’s earned a little slack in the bouncing back department. Sure, I’d like to fit back into my pre-baby wardrobe, but I don’t have a deadline. I’ll get there when I get there. 

Food is another thing that I have a totally different relationship with now. Before Ethan was born I loved to cook. Cooking was what I did at the end of the day to relax. Now, while I still love cooking, I either stick with easy foods I can prepare while he plays in a playpen (which usually has a 15-minute tolerance level) or foods I can prep while he’s napping and heat up later for dinner. If I make dinner during nap time it means I don’t get other things done, like cleaning or writing articles or working on books or blogs. Everything is a trade-off. All of this is hard. I’m not going to obsess over the calories or macros or points involved in the food I feed this family, I just focus on healthy ingredients and hope for the best. 

There’s something about just not having the time to obsess over my weight/having more important things in life to focus on that’s actually very freeing.

Who knew that my lumpy, bumpy post-baby body would be the body I ended up feeling the most like myself in? 

 

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