Motherhood with a side of Vanity?

During my pregnancy I gained 37 pounds. Yes, that's two more pounds than you're "supposed" to. 

Before having Ainsley I had no timeline of when I wanted to lose my weight or plans with how to do it. Let's be real, I was just trying not to lose my breakfast. 

When she was five days old, I weighed myself and had lost 19 pounds. A week or so later I weighed myself and I was down 26. To be fair, a good amount of it was water weight so I'm sure if it had been actual fat it would have taken longer. [I know it can take way longer for a lot of people to lose weight. I mean no judgements! I'm not trying to make it sound easy. Losing weight is serious work.] It felt really good to see the numbers go down (especially without really doing anything aside from nursing) and I figured the rest of the weight would continue to fall off. I came up with the vain goal to lose the remaining 11 pounds before my 6 weeks postpartum appointment. 

[yeah, I got pretty big]

Although Ainsley isn't technically six weeks until tomorrow, I had my appointment today. I'm a little upset to say I haven't lost an ounce of that remaining 11 pounds. Given that all I've done to lose weight the last six weeks is breastfeed, eat fairly healthy, and try to go on daily walks and do tummy exercises, it's not all that surprising I haven't lost a double digit amount of weight. Not sayin it wouldn't be nice!

Adjusting to this new body hasn't been easy. Come to think of it, I've been adjusting to this "new" body of mine for the last eleven months and it hasn't stayed the same for more than a month! [what a crazy thought] And why? Because I've been working on growing and taking care of this precious life.

[holy cuteness, right?]

She's worth more than the world to me. I wish I could say that's made my all negative feelings toward my ever squishy jelly belly go away. It hasn't quite been like that. However, it's not like I hate my body. It's hard to get used to. For example, I went to Target with my sister yesterday and tried on my normal size. Uh, hello five-months-pregnant! It didn't fit right. At all. I don't know how to dress myself anymore. And I certainly don't feel like right now is a time to dive headfirst into a diet. Especially while breastfeeding. Keeping up my milk supply is more important than having some extra bounce in muh booty. Being a mother is tricky. I feel like nothing is yours anymore. All decisions effect my precious baby. It's difficult and also a blessing.

On the other hand, it's pretty amazing. I love looking at my little miracle with a sense of accomplishment knowing I worked so hard to get her here. I place no judgements on those who can't or choose not to breastfeed, but I'm so grateful I've had the opportunity. I love seeing her second and third chins form knowing that I essentially put those there. 

I feel like we have a lot of pressure to be fake. While getting dressed my goal was sometimes "what makes me NOT look like a just had a baby _____weeks ago?" When I went out I wanted people to say things like "you did not just have a baby! you look fabulous!" But then I realized...what's wrong with being real? Why not sport my squishy belly rounded out by some friendly muffin tops? After all, it is evidence of an amazing thing I just did, right? And it's evidence I'm that sweet little girls mom. THAT is an amazing thing.
Here's to [trying] to embrace the squish!