A few days ago I weighed myself. I weighed the exact same I weighed at 4 weeks postpartum. I found myself frustrated and doing that weird thing where I argue with the scale. “But I’m breast feeding and eating better and have been getting up and being more active!? How can I not have lost a single pound!?“
Well, I have some news for myself, I grew a human being inside of me. While growing said human being I sometimes ate more then I needed to, I sometimes said yes to sweets and junk food, because sometimes when my pregnancy hormones said, “LET US BURN THE WORLD DOWN!” I said “Chill girl, have some cheetos.”
I sometimes ate great all day long and went on walks and did trimester appropriate work outs. I tried to keep a balance. But my body decided that no matter how hard I tried to keep a balance I needed to gain 40 lbs.
After I delivered said human being I stepped on the scale to see I hadn’t lost a pound.
“HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!” I argued.
But I let it go, went about my way living life, recovering and getting to know the human, learning to mother two instead of one, and about a month later I had lost 20lbs.
“HOORAH!” I proclaimed, “Breastfeeding is paying off! HOORAH! HOORAH!”
I visited my midwife and got clearance to return to normal activities. Then… life happened.
I had laundry to catch up on, I had a baby who wouldn’t sleep unless I held her, I had a 4 year old who needed extra attention to compensate for the attention her new sister was getting, I had dinners to make, I had sleep to get, I had a husband I was trying to get 3 minutes alone with. I attempted to start working out again, slowly rebuilding what I had lost being pregnant. 3 workouts a week. Only 10 minutes of just repairing. Even those were hard to squeeze in, and sometimes I didn’t.
I stepped on the scale to see…no change. I’d plateaued. The cheetos instead of flames, the extra servings at dinner, the late night cereals, the guilt started suffocating me. How could I have done this to myself? I looked in the mirror disgusted. I was back to where I started 2 ½ years ago. Fat and hating myself. Not knowing what to do except wallow and give up. I thought I was “getting my body back.”
After throwing myself the nicest pity party you could ever attend, I started to wonder a few things. What are you “getting back” really? Is it not the same skin that was here before the baby? And before the first baby? Are these not the same muscles? How can I get a body back I never lost? This is only an opportunity to build myself into the best me I have ever been, like a house reno… still got great bones, I just want to do some updating! (I’ve been watching way too much HGTV)
I thought about how I had achieved some non-scale victories, such as I was able to put on a pair of jeans. Jeans without a stretchy belly band, definitely a victory.
And so it was decided…
I want to build a better me. I don’t want a “you look like you haven’t even had a baby” body. I want a “you are so awesome for having two kids and keeping yourself in good health” body! I want to show my girls that happiness is loving yourself as a mother, not remorseful self hate for doing something as amazing as growing a child.
I hereby vow to stop weighing myself for the next 30 days. And to focus on how I am feeling, and where I can push myself without draining myself or spreading myself any thinner then you are already spread as a new mother. I am grounded from the scale. And I couldn’t be more relieved.
Do you find that worrying about the numbers on the scale is defeating? What is the best thing you do for your overall health and self care on a daily basis? What kind of change can you make for the next 30 days to help build a better you?