This Friday, the scale (a simple tool of measurement today, not the dictator of my life like before) told me I had one pre-pregnancy pound to lose.
I was pleased to know this stat, but given the fact that most of my pre-pregnancy clothes (pants, specifically) no longer fit … it’s hard to get too excited: I still have work to do to tone up and get my body into better shape.
I know what to do, and am doing it — but without the obsessiveness of the past. I’m not beating myself up for any of it; I’m just stating it as a fact. It is what it is.
Here are the rough numbers.
I gained exactly 25 lbs during my pregnancy — which was, interestingly, exactly what my OB recommended and expected I’d gain.
When I got home from the hospital, I figured what the heck and weighed myself. I was only down about 8 lbs — a surprise to me, given the fact that Maya herself weighed 6 lbs 4.4 oz and you figure the placenta and fluids and all that, but I was never really that swollen at all so who knows why.
I hoped breastfeeding would help spur some losses, but clearly, I’m not one of those lucky women for whom breastfeeding = surefire weight loss.
As I suspected, I had to fight tooth and nail to see the scale drop. Six weeks later (pre-green-light for the gym) I’d lost another 8 … and then stalled. Since then, I have been dedicated to Weight Watchers to lose the rest — sometimes half-heartedly, sometimes with gusto. It’s taken me a long time, but I have managed to lose — and keep off — everything but one pre-pregnancy pound.
I share this today not to criticize myself for how long it took to lose, but rather to say I’m proud of where I’m at mentally in spite of it. Yes, I still have 10-12 lbs of pre-pre-pregnancy weight after this pound that I’d like to lose, but I’m in no hurry. Sure, I’d like to feel lean by summer …
But even if I don’t lose another pound, and even if my body stayed this fleshier version of itself, I’d still be the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.
And that’s nothing to shake a stick at.