For some women, post-pregnancy weight loss is a non-issue. Out comes baby, and a few weeks later, the rest of the weight slides off. In my opinion, these women are unicorns/blessed with amazing genetics. Me, not so much.
Credit it to being on bed rest, eating too much ice cream, or perhaps because I have ten pound plus babies, but losing the weight after baby has been work. I’m still nursing, so that doesn’t help, but it’s worth it, as I feel that it’s what is best for my daughter. So the only option is to put in the work—because of all the things I am, a unicorn I am not.
I’m not going to lie—it’s tough. I run every day, or every second day, and stay away from things like bread and chocolate (although let’s face it, the temptation is almost too much to bear some days, which can lead to a seriously alarming binge if I don’t check myself or if someone brings either cheesecake or apple crumble to a party). I am seeing results, and it’s gotten easier, especially now that I can see that my fat pants are beginning to fit me again (as regular pants, but I’m not complaining). The exercise has also helped to clear my mind, allowing me to handle my stress better than I do when I don’t make time for a 30-min workout.
But truth be told, I’d wear this extra fat on my face if it that was what it took to be the mother to my children. I wouldn’t want to, but I’d do it, because it’s worth it. But being able to fit into my pants without breaking into a sweat has been pretty darn fantastic too. But this is motherhood, right? And it’s the loveliest thing in the world.
