My postpartum body is so funky. So squishy and wide, and weird and big boobs! and flubby tummy! And most of all, it's really, really uncomfortable. And very hard to dress. I know I'm not alone in that feeling.
I'm struggling with that, big time. It might even be one of the reasons I don't necessarily feel any pressure to get dressed in the morning, because, Why bother? Nothing works anyway. Everyone stay in pjs, hooray!
You wear maternity clothes for 7+ months. You're beyond excited to put on that elastic waistband when you've got a sweet baby belly going on, to let it all hang out, but when it's postpartum time? I'm all pack that ish up I don't want to see it for a very long, long time. And so that's what I did. At 1 week pp, I packed up all my maternity clothes, because, ew. I want a zipper and a button, pleaseandthankyou.
But the zipper and button pants (multiple sizes bigger than my normal jeans, mind you)? Not flattering. Not even a tiny bit. My shirts? Too tight. Accentuates the larger than life ta-ta's, and made me feel even more self conscious of my mid-section.
Every day, literally, feels like a battle with my closet. I stand there just willing something that magically makes me feel amazing, holds the capability for me to nurse in, and makes me feel confident comes floating out. It's stupid, really. Every day. I look. Every day. I find nothing to wear.
My husband has been more than gracious with me because there's been at least 3 different times I've asked to go out looking for "cute, flowy tops that hide my boobs and my tummy, that I can nurse in", and here, watch the baby, BYE! And pretty much, most times? I come home with 1 to 2 things, or nothing. (For me that is WEIRD, man.)
Last night I was with my sister-in-law, for a little browsing through Marshalls to find something...oh lord, please, anything. It also just doubled as a night out (or, well, 2 hours out) away from home-life, while Declan stayed home, cuddled a baby, and watched football. It works for us. Anyway.
I was telling her that I just got so used to everything looking and fitting just right when I went shopping with my pre-Lucy body, so much so, that I even rarely tried things on at the store. I just knew they'd fit if I grabbed a small or x-small, and I didn't really have to worry. Right now, it's so different, and kind of frustrating. I'm tugging and pulling at everything. Eh, this makes my arms look bulky, oh lord, too much boob-attention, oh, no, you can't have the snugness around the belly, etc, etc.
And I don't like feeling uncomfortable. I don't. I mean, really--who does? But getting the taste of having a figure I was more than happy with last Fall has made me want that back, and as soon as possible please.
So that's why I didn't wait. I didn't wait the full 6-weeks-doctors-orders to vigorously exercise. I didn't take the full 6 weeks to keep eating like I'm still pregnant (because let's be honest, nursing makes you feel like a starved animal sometimes, too). Not for anyone else, but for me.
I know I have the ultimate excuse of you just had a baby! Your body was warped for 9 months! I get that. But, I want to feel comfortable in my own skin. I prefer fit over flub. I tasted that feeling last year and I want it back. Sitting around for another two weeks doing nothing about it wasn't helping.
Do I like tracking my food? Freaking no. I hate it.
Do I like having to think hardcore about just grabbing a handful of pretzels? NO. Absolutely not.
Do I like spending naptime running on the treadmill instead of watching my DVR'ed shows? No. No. No.
But I want to feel good. For me.
And that's why I couldn't wait.
Here's to hoping I have some good news to report for next week in the weight loss/inches lost thing. We'll see. I may have snuck on the scale today, but we'll see the official week's loss (it better be a loss!) on Monday.
Have a fabulous, long weekend friends.