Postpartum Bod
Wow. Squishiness is a word! Who knew? So, that picture up there is me…pre-baby number two. Toned abs, strong arms and next-to-nothing boobs — the best shape of my entire life. Fast forward to today: six+ weeks postpartum. The snap-back I had after my first baby was pretty quick so I had the same expectation this time around. Aaaaaand no. Squishy belly, engorged, leaky boobs and weak as all hell. If you’ve had a baby, I know you hear me, but this negative self-talk is just dumb. Yep, I’m calling myself out. And every last mama out there who has taken a look in the mirror and felt like she’d never see that pre-baby bod again. So let’s talk about it.
This past weekend, I did the thing we all despise: I went swimsuit shopping. It was nauseating, but with a trip planned to the beach in just a few weeks, I had no choice. It was just a week ago I was able to lose the pantyliner I’d been wearing on the daily and now I’m looking at my usual size on the hanger and thinking that I’ll never fit into it again. I felt sad, unattractive and downright bad about myself. I only tried on one-pieces (high-five for them being in this year) but cringed coming out of the dressing room to show my husband.
Then earlier this week, I was given the go-ahead from my OB to resume normal activity. That meant working out and sex were A-OK. For about a week, I’d been walking two miles with the baby in the stroller so I was excited to ease back into a workout routine. Of course my husband was stoked about the sex part, but that was NOT open for business in my book. Sorry dude. May I remind you, sweet husband, less than two months ago I pushed out an eight-pound baby without an epidural. That playground is still closed, my friend. Truth is, when you don’t feel confident in your own skin, being intimate isn’t fun for anyone.
I’m willing to admit that I was throwing a pity party for myself and somehow forgetting that this squishy body, the one that performed a MIRACLE by bringing another human into this world, was still beautiful. Once I recognized it, my mindset shifted. How ridiculous was it to think that I’d already look like the girl in that picture while my episiotomy stitches were still healing? SO RIDICULOUS. So what if I had to go up a clothing size? I just spent the past ten months accommodating another life inside my uterus…calm the hell down, sister!
If you’re reading this and feeling let down about the number on the scale, please, for the love of yoga pants, stop. Give yourself some grace. You just did, and continue to do, incredible things as a mother. You do everything for everyone else first because, hey, that’s what we do. Be proud of what you’ve accomplished and strive to get to a place that makes you feel good about yourself. Start small. Walk. Take the stairs. Do a damn push up. Whatever it is, you have to start somewhere if you want to see a change. Today I pulled up a free 30-minute Barre workout online. It took me an hour and a half to do it because I was interrupted four times by a newborn who doesn’t like to nap for more than 15 minutes at a time. Not to mention, it was freaking HARD. I couldn’t finish the reps, my legs were on fire and my arms were giving out. But I did it. And I’ll do it again, and again, and again because I deserve to feel confident and you do too. So take the first step towards your fitness goal today and power through. You’ve got this, girlfriend; we’ve both got this.
