I hoped, postpartum, it wouldn’t be hard to lose the weight. I hoped, postpartum, if things didn’t look how I’d hoped, I could just look at my beautiful baby, sigh, and say it was all worth it.
It’s hard to capture in words just how Done I was being pregnant. I did not enjoy sharing my body with another person. I didn’t feel like I was glowing. For maybe 7 weeks between when I stopped throwing up before the back pain kicked in, things were good and I felt cute and like an adorable pregnant person. For the other 32 weeks I was pregnant, I was uncomfortable. The thing we both looked forward to most was me not being pregnant anymore. I think I commented, leaving the hospital, how nice it was to not be pregnant.
As beautiful as my baby is, as relieved as I am, I’m having a hard time getting used to my body.
I knew things would be different after. But I didn’t know that I needed to buy a new suit jacket. I didn’t understand how much your body is not your own. I didn’t realize how daunting losing the baby weight would feel. How impossible it would feel to fit in exercise. I’m trying to have faith that it gets better, that winter is always hard, and all I can do is the best I can.