I am not like my husband Kevin, who was blessed with a freakishly high metabolism. I can look at a piece of cake or celery for that matter and gain 5 pounds – he can eat a cake and lose 10 if he knocks out a few push ups.
To me it seems as though women are meant to be a little plumper after birth, like a fellow blogger put it, “it appears we are genetically predisposed to hold onto our fat when we have an infant in case of you know, drought or locusts or whatever.”
The day after I was released from the hospital I went for a 3 mile walk. A speed walk. I pushed Noah all around our neighborhood dragging my skeptical husband along. Kevin had the thought, “hey, you just had a baby – via a very scary major surgery – you still can’t bend over or sneeze – you should not be power walking like a mall walker on speed!’
Too bad I didn’t listen because as it happens he was right. I kept up the psycho speed walking and crazy restrictive diet for two weeks. Then all that I am woman hear me roar I just had a freaking baby adrenaline wore off (that and I ran out of the happy pills they gave me from the hospital to help with the c-section pain). Not only did I have horrible pain from the surgery but I now had shin splints to boot.
I had gained 70 pounds while pregnant. Yeah, 70 freaking pounds. By the end of my pregnancy I thought I was having a toddler. In those two weeks I lost 40. I also lost my will to live.
Having a baby is crazy. Your emotional, your falling in love with your baby, your breaking up with your body or what is left of it, your sad that you feel like a manatee, your tired, everything hurts, the last thing any woman should do post pregnancy is diet let alone exercise.
So I did what any (ir)rational person would do. I did the exact opposite of what I had been doing. Bring on the emotional eating! I ate and hibernated. I was feeling pretty good, chocolate ice cream for dinner – yes, please! I even stooped as low to get hooked (briefly) on a couple of soap opera plots. That is when I knew I had a problem.
Living off of a handful of calories and dragging myself behind a stroller for miles on end and turning into a bon bon eating hermit both were not the answer.
I needed to find something that I could do that would be inexpensive and uncomplicated. At one point (after having its infomercial hammered into my head at 3am every day for a month) I thought about trying P90X it seemed a little (a lot) crazy and intense so I thought that was a good sign. Then I saw someone do a pull up and I was out, arm strength is something I will never possess. So I decided on toning down my walking and ease into it and try it every other day – giving my body a chance to recover.
Next I needed an easy meal plan. I needed to find a plan that literally says “eat this”. I also wanted something that allowed chocolate and pizza but we can’t win them all. I don’t do well with main stream diets because it doesn’t take much to throw me off. For example:
“Is this chip a carb? Crap. I already ate one. Well, I ate one..I just ruined my diet. I guess today will just be a cheat day. I guess I will eat this bag of chips while I figure out lunch.”
Fail. Diet over.
So instead of following a restrictive plan I am going with a healthy diet with a few splurges here and there to keep me sane. No more days where I cram as much unhealthy food as I can because it is my preverbal last (good tasting) meal.
So here we are, a week in and I am feeling pretty good. I am back up to jogging a couple of miles and my power walks aren’t an issue anymore since my stomach is no longer split open. Kevin and I walk to the local market every day and buy fresh and healthy food for dinner and make it together which is a lot better than driving around in circles wondering which fast food place will lure us into their anti-nutritional fatty trap.
I have lost 10 more pounds (5 of which on the bon bon and soap opera phase, too bad that couldn’t last!) and have 20 more to go to be back to pre-baby body – 10 more and we might even trek into milf territory (I kid, I kid).