A new mother I am not. My oldest daughter is nearly 15 years old, and my baby boy is 9. I can’t really say my post-baby body is new, but it’s newer than the pre-baby body I lived in for the 23 years previously. Which is to say I can’t complain about not having my pre-baby body back, because at this point it’s been enough time that I’m 100% responsible for my *cough, cough* “new” old extra curvy body.
I worked out after my daughter was born, but mostly I was super young and was pretty cute in my pregnancy clothes. After my daughter was born, I lost all my baby weight, plus some, by nursing. (Don’t hate me, there’s time yet in the story for you to feel vindicated.) I was slim and in shape mainly as a holdover from my high school athlete days and working out in college. But by the time my now 9-year-old was born, five years after my daughter, it was a
brave whole new world. That pregnancy was the scariest year of my life, wherein I found myself on an 8-month long bed-rest with a permanent I.V., in-home nursing care, in and out of the hospital wherein over the space of my pregnancy I gained 100 lbs. It wasn’t awesome.
After my son was born, and I was deemed healthy enough to work out, I did so with a vengeance. I worked out 5-6 days a week: yoga, running, climbing, hiking, walking and kick-boxing. I got to my pre-pregnancy weight after a year of dieting and working out like a crazy person. That lasted for a couple of years while I was a stay-at-home mom, and then I started working.
In the eight years since I’ve started working, I’ve gained back 30+ lbs I haven’t been able to shake since, and I’ve just now, 15 years into parenting, decided it’s okay. It’s okay to have a piece of cake and enjoy it. It’s okay to not be able to fit in the same size jeans I wore in college. It’s okay to skip the gym to hang out with my kids once in awhile, and it’s more than okay that I have a leftover stretch of scarred skin that will never leave me. That stretch of skin means I had the privilege of creating, cooking, and birthing two healthy children whom I love more than the whole world combined. And I’m okay with that.