I hardly know what to say. It was three years ago that I last posted. We had just started trying fertility meds to get pregnant and that was making weight loss very hard. Oh the emotions! Let's just put it this way: At the end of Life of Pi, I was bawling so hard I could barely speak and when Hubs asked me why I was crying, all I could answer was: "He loved that tiger so much! And he didn't even look back!"
Well, it was worth it. We got pregnant a few months after my last post. Pregnancy was dreadful and amazing. Morning sickness, round ligament pain, balloon feet. Everything. I ate Sweetarts to keep the nausea at bay which usually worked. I'd wake up in the middle of the night so hungry and sick, I had to trick myself into eating. And I gained and gained and didn't care.
Then my baby was born. This beautiful, independent, sunshine of a boy. Having a baby is very much like falling in love-- I just wanted to be with him all the time and when I did get away, all I could think of was him. I nursed and I lost all the pregnancy weight. In three weeks.
I was ecstatic! I am Supergirl, Wonder Woman. I am Eve! Blessed motherhood. Miracle body. Look how I can move and stretch! I can pick socks up off the floor. I can make dinner. I can do anything.
But my milk never quite came in as it should. And my baby never nursed as fully as he should. And I got tired of pumping and nursing and not sleeping. So tired! My husband didn't care if I nursed or now. My mother said she hardly nursed at all. My sister commiserated: "Nursing is hard." So I quit and felt relieved. And my baby still grew and still loved being close to me.
After a couple months, my husband asked why I was still wearing my maternity clothes when my pregnant belly was gone. So I tried to put them away, but they were so comfortable. Were my old clothes always this restricting? I could barely button up my old jeans. Must be that my body changed with the pregnancy. Or the dryer was shrinking those cheap T-shirts. Or something. I couldn't be gaining weight; not possible.
When I finally weighed myself again, I was still below pregnancy high, but I was higher than right before the pregnancy. Enough to make my jeans tight. "That's OK," I thought. "I'll do better, be better."
But I wasn't. And things got so busy and stressful. Hubs got a new job, we sold our house, we moved in with MIL, we bought a new house, we moved. I held in a lot of my stress during this time and ate it rather than dealing with it. So much stress. So many cookies.
So here I am again. Back to my pregnancy high. Here we go again.