Baby Fat

Here it is. The awful truth. Even if you are fairly good while pregnant, eating heathy and doing exercise (per doctors orders), you will still gain a shit-ton of weight. The first and half of the second trimester of my pregnancy, the doctors freaked out a bit because I wasn’t gaining enough weight, but by the third trimester I was right on track…and then some. I gained about 40 lbs total with Lucy, and I assumed because I was fairly active it would come off pretty fast. I also knew that if I nursed instead of formula feeding that the weight would come off even faster. That was true. Sort of.

The first 25 lbs came off without me even trying. And as a woman, that time is freaking awsome. Shit, I lost 5 lbs in the last two days. I am fabulous! And then it just stops. And four months later you’ll find yourself still in your maternity jeans wondering if you’ll ever be able to wear normal pants again. And you’ll go to a bachelorette party with a nametag that says, “maternity pants MILF.” Somewhat flattering, but mostly just very sad.

So today I decided that I am going to stop being a lump and actually try to lost these last 10 (ish) lbs. Now, how I am going to do that with a four-month-old? I have no idea, but today I tried to do Yoga and Bellydancing, as those were the two things that got me in fantastic shape right before I got pregnant. But it’s a bit different doing it in a class with an instructor than doing it while watching the exercise network on your TV. I think I may have to find another method. Or else greatly enlarge the size of my living room and remove all furniture and plastic baby toys. It’s hard to find that “special place” in meditation when you knock into your child’s exersaucer, causing the stupid light up thing to go “Mooo, cow, vaca” and then play Old MacDonald.