Nine months have passed since I had baby boy and this mothering ‘thing’ has been the easiest, hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s amazing actually. Everyone always asks how do I feel now that I’m a mom, and to be honest it’s the hardest question to answer. I feel like I’m supposed to give some profound response but mostly I feel myself. Just a more tired, selfless version of myself.
Mothering so far, has been putting pretty much all of my wants and needs to the side. I want to go to the gym…oh not right now. I want to go to that party, oh, not happening. I want to go the washroom, nah, did you really think that was going to happen now? I want to get some writing done. Nope. Sorry, not now. I want to sleep. That’s a definite hell no.
At the same time, to date, since becoming a mother I’ve become a more calm and relaxed version of myself. Occasionally, my emotions get the best of me and I get caught up in having too many expectations of myself and others, in time, I recognize and acknowledge what I’m doing and usually return to my calm, tired self fairly quickly.
Nine months postpartum, I’m a heavier version of myself. I weigh more than I ever have In my life. I weigh more than when I was pregnant. But it’s ok. Well, it’s not ok…I don’t like it. I told myself I’d get myself together by the time the little guy turned one, but that doesn’t happen until New Year’s Eve. I can’t wait that long to make a resolution. I’ve got to find the discipline somewhere deep within and start now. Lose 30 pounds in 3 months…10 pounds a month. Easy enough right? Ugh, not really. When I’m home all day with the baby, not really able to indulge in many of my wants and needs. I indulge in the fridge and the pantry. I eat. I snack. That’s all I’ve got besides chasing after a demanding, super active baby boy. Sleep when he sleeps they say. He sleeps for 30 minutes. A nap, for me, is not happening. Exercise when he’s napping or playing. Again, not happening. I’m exhausted. I’m making excuses, I know. But I’m tired. I haven’t had a great sleep since over 18 months ago. I’m allowed to make excuses. Leave me alone and let me eat my cake, chips or cookies. That’s how I’ve been rationalizing my current state of heaviness.
Why are you so tired? Isn’t baby boy sleeping through the nights now? Well, yes…and no. At 7.5 months we were able to kick him out of our bed and almost instantly he started sleeping through the nights which means 4-6 hrs. During these 4-6 hrs I was not only enjoying my newfound freedom but was missing having him in the crook of my arm, as well as still listening for him to cry out. It was hard to relax which doesn’t make for the most restful sleep. Nevertheless we got there, I got there. He’d actually sleep through the night without any dream feeds (picking him up, while he’s sleeping and literally feeding and then putting him back down without him ever waking up! It’s amazing), without him waking up and crying himself back to sleep. What a beautiful thing, this sleep thing is. And then he goes and gets sick. And then we have to start all over again. Him waking up several times during the night and me being super tired. Still.
I’ve got a very demanding baby. He has the willpower of a bull or a goat….I don’t know, whatever really stubborn creatures are out there, he’s like them. Everyone who’s met him agrees. It’s ok though, I love him just as he is. And 9 months in, I want to love me a bit more. I feel the insecurities creeping in. I’m not doing this, I’m not doing that. Everyone always praises all these celebrity types for getting their bodies back so quickly but seriously who wouldn’t get there body back while having a nanny, a personal chef, a personal trainer, a housekeeper and a personal assistant. I’ve got help and support around me, but it’s not like that! I’m with baby boy all day during the day and not a soul is waking up during the nights to tend to him but me. I’ve got to find the strength to do this on my own. I’m all I have.
I live in tights. My clothes don’t fit and I refuse to buy more, not that I could afford to anyway. I’m still breastfeeding and I know that takes a toll on the body.
But, the novelty of my body having done this amazing thing is wearing off. I want to look cute. I want to feel healthy. I want to fit into my clothes.
So one more time. 9 months in and I’m loving being a mommy. I love my boy. I created life, the absolute most amazing thing ever! Truly. And I’m down for doing it again. But for now, I need to feel better about myself. Whenever I feel great about myself, great things follow. So, 3 months (actually two now) to go till 2019. 30 pounds to go. That’s it. I must do it. No more excuses. 🙅🏾♀️😫😭 Someone, help me please.