Body Image in a Post-Partum World

**In an effort to actually do the things I pin, as well as post on a more regular basis, I'm following this list of blog topics found here. Not in order, and not in any sort of time frame, but easy come easy go.**

Today seems like an appropriate day to write about this topic because, as it turns out, I just learned I fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. Not the actual jeans I wore because, like an idiot, I threw those out, but the same size from my favorite store. Cue the party music and happy dances!

Like most women, I don't have the best body image. There seems to always be something to criticize but oh, what I wouldn't give for the body I used to have, the body I used to think needed so much improving (am I right, ladies?)! To be honest, I don't know if I'm really "okay" with my body, but I am much more okay with it than I was pre-pregnancy. Which might sound funny, considering I've got at least an extra ten pounds on me and way more stretch marks and loose skin. But how could I not be proud of this body? It's allowed me to play collegiate-level volleyball, run farther than I ever thought I could, and it's housed my daughter. My body created another person. That's amazing. To quote Katt Williams, "Your body is not ruined. You're a goddamn tiger who earned her stripes."

But just thinking those things isn't enough for me to say, "Hey, my body's been through a lot, who cares if it looks saggy and puffy at the same time?" Knowing what it's accomplished doesn't mean I'm satisfied with where it stands. In fact, because of all my body has been through, I know it can get better. And for the last four or five months I've been working hard, both at the gym and at home, trying to watch what I eat. I'm not perfect. I'll binge. I'll miss a week of workouts. But I always go back. And keep trying. And I won't give up. Because I have a little person who is counting on me to be healthy and fit enough to play with her and be there for her as she grows up. It's not just about me and what I think of my body anymore. It's about my daughter and what she needs from me. And she needs a mom who not only is capable, but a mom who will show her how to love her own body and that it's okay if she's not perfect, because no one is.

So it really does't matter if I think my body is good enough, because in a sense it has to be. Or at least I have to show Emily that I'm okay with it. And if there are times when I'm not, then I will go to the gym and I will watch my portions until I'm happy with my body again. I don't get the luxury of complaining anymore. It's either shut up or take action, and I choose to take action.

To Induce or Not to Induce

So, some things.

No, I have not had the baby yet.

But we're getting close.

While everyone is focused on Christmas and all the stress/planning/cheer that brings, I have been thinking more and more about how close my due date is (the 27th, for those that don't know). Christmas does not even compete with the knowledge that a baby will soon be gracing my household.

I haven't done many of my normal Christmas-y things, like bake a million cookies or constantly listen to Christmas music or try to figure out how we're going to hit all 5 family Christmases (including hosting one) in 36 hours. And while the house is decorated, we definitely scaled it down this year. No lights on the roof, only the must-have and easy-to-put-away ornaments are on the tree, and I haven't even watched A Christmas Story yet.

Instead I have been doing an incessant amount of laundry and dragging my feet through the whole nesting process. Mainly because it's all so overwhelming.

And tonight I am finding sleep elusive because I have my 39 week OB appointment tomorrow. The appointment where I am told whether or not I am getting induced before Christmas. And I am less stressed about the possibility of holding my new baby a week early than I am about the fact that my husband's vacation doesn't start until Christmas day and I want him to be there every moment of that first week. Which, if I go into labor anytime before Sunday, is unlikely to happen since he's working two separate calls this week, including a 24 hour shift Christmas Eve. And while his schedule could be shifted to a degree, time he misses will need to be made up during the actual vacation, which means I am either a) at home without him with a very, very newborn infant, or b) I am at home without him with a week old infant.

Unless I don't get induced until next week and don't spontaneously go into labor before then. In which case most of his vacation will be spent at the hospital. And then when we get home he will have another 24 hour call on January 2nd, and I will be right back in the position of (b).

I realize that this is all very first-world-problem material and I have no right to complain due to the support I get from my husband and family. I understand that as long as I have a healthy baby it will not matter when she is born. But to my tired, pregnant brain, this all seems like too much to take in and I can't make the decision to go for it or to wait it out.

And I really don't want to be that girl in the office tomorrow that tells her doctor, "Well, I'd really appreciate it if we could wait to have this baby because otherwise it will really throw off my schedule..."

Send Me Your Recipes!

Friends, I need recipes. Not just of pie and cake and cookies (although that's what I really want to make right now). No, what I really need are recipes for stews, casseroles, and all things delicious and nutritious that will freeze well.

I have done little to no cooking in the last few months, but as I'm gearing up for baby (38 weeks today!) I know I really need to get down to business. I would like to make at least 3 different dishes that will produce leftovers and will stand to be in my freezer for at least a week or two.

Also, if you have tips on how to freeze these dishes, that would be very helpful. I've actually never made enough of anything that warranted it to be frozen before it could be finished.

Thank you in advance! My husband thanks you for keeping our takeout bill low, and I thank you for allowing me to nest in a way that does not involve cleaning supplies. :-)

I'm Going to be a Hit at Parties

The third trimester has hit me like a ton of bricks and I still have two months to go.

I don't like to complain about my pregnancy because it makes it seem like I'm ungrateful for the amazing, wonderful daughter growing inside of me. But seriously, I'm done being pregnant.

I've had my fill of nausea, swelling, fatigue, general uncomfortableness, and mood swings. Also, it would be nice to be able to bend over without a) feeling someone else's bones poke into my ribs and b) make me have to pee.

Pregnancy is a truly wonderful, amazing thing that I am awed my body is capable of. But it is not what they make it out to be on TV. I don't get to sit around all day with my feet up while family waits on me hand and foot. I'm not glowing. In fact, I'm usually sweating and out of breath. Oh, and did I mention my ankle bone has disappeared? Yeah, that nobby bone on the inside of your ankle...mine seems to have been sucked into my skin and is now in hiding. Granted, it makes shaving the ankle area easier, but shaving anything else is just about impossible.

If you've been following me on Twitter, you already know that today has not been a good day for me emotionally. It's been building for awhile and last night the dam broke. I just started crying for no good reason (or, to be more specific, because I had been acting bitchy all evening and hence ruined it) and now it seems I have only two settings: bitch and crying woman. I'm going to be a hit at parties.

This did not resolve itself with a decent night's sleep. Oh, no. Instead, I almost bitched out a saleswoman at one store and wanted to cry after an encounter at another. After my much-needed pumpkin spice latte (which I cannot wait to have caffeinated again, by the way) and reading a bit of Tina Fey's Bossypants in Barnes and Noble, I was feeling a little better. And then I realized I still had to go grocery shopping and my feet were big, fiery, swollen blobs at the end of my legs.

I realize that this post will probably make women who haven't been pregnant think twice about getting knocked up. Just remember that pregnancy is different for every woman...but there are some pretty shitty things that happen to you that no one seems to mention beforehand. It will all be worth it in the end. I just feel like the end is a very long way away. And in the meantime, my bedtime keeps getting earlier and earlier.

It's Times Like These

It's times like these when I realize life has gotten the better of me. I stand there, overwhelmed, stressed, and in a mood that could swing violently from break-down-and-cry to yelling-at-you-for-no-good-reason faster than a pendulum.

And why would I be feeling like this tonight, you ask?

Because I went to register for my baby showers tonight.

As I stood in the store (with my amazing sister-in-law and her beautiful if somewhat cranky 2-year-old twins), surrounded by a gazillion baby items, my blood pressure began to rise. There is absolutely no way I could know exactly what I needed. And even if I used the checklist provided by the store, how do I know what brand is best, especially without diligently researching first? And if I took the time to research everything I was about to ask my friends and family for, I'd be sitting in front of the computer from now until the actual date of the shower.

So after an hour of walking around and basically pointing the registry gun at whatever my SIL pointed at (and she has good taste and knows what she's talking about), I walked out of there feeling like I needed a redo. I'm a planner by nature, and I simply had not planned this trip well enough. I had not sat down and considered things like regular stroller vs. jogging stroller, generic bottle vs. bottle that claims to prevent colic, Diaper Genie vs. Arm & Hammer diaper pail, baby wipes for sensitive skin vs. extra thick. How the hell am I supposed to know what kind of wipes my kid is going to need?

And due to time constraints for the little ones (past their bedtime) and the fact that I am one of the world's slowest shoppers but didn't want to take up too much of my SIL's time, I didn't make informed, well-thought out decisions. I just went for it and thought, "I can always go back and look into that, or just re-register for another one that fits my style." But, as I'm sure you've already realized, that requires twice the work.

So I felt like I had just wasted my night (which I hadn't, but in the moment I was being dramatic). So I did the best thing to calm my nerves: I walked over to Barnes & Noble, got some coffee, and perused.

And I felt my blood pressure drop, my breathing even out, and my heart rate slow.

And I came to this conclusion: I do not need to be overwhelmed by the amount of stuff a new baby will need. I do not need the latest gadgets and gizmos galore. My baby will be happy if she is fed, sheltered, and loved. Everything else is just extra, and there's no reason to get worked up about it.

Learning to Balance

With pregnancy, I knew a lot of things would change. I knew I would need to adjust and go with the flow. But I didn't realize that one of my main sources of confidence, self-esteem, and mental therapy would be drastically different.

I've been involved in sports and fitness for as long as I can remember. And even when I've stepped away from it for a time, I've always gone back. There's something about pushing your body to its limits that makes you feel humbled and stronger in the same moment. Knowing that, if you wanted to, you could take off on your own two feet and run until you felt like stopping, and then knowing you will have the strength to turn around and run back home. Seeing yourself in the mirror as you lift a weight that's always been too heavy for you before today. Feeling a difference in your shape, your endurance, and your mood.

When I had my miscarriage last fall, I used the gym as a therapist's office. When I was upset, depressed, and lost I ran and I lifted until I was too tired to feel anything. Along the way I got my strength back, both physically and mentally. I was able to run and push myself through the tunnel to the other side.

Now that I'm pregnant again (and halfway through!) I feel like I'm starting over again. For the first few months I felt too nauseated to get off the couch, let alone get myself out the door. Now that I'm in the second trimester and feeling better, I'm trying to get back into the habit of going to the gym each morning, but it's difficult. Despite all I've said, I really don't like working out on a daily basis. It can get monotonous and routine, just like anything else.

When I do manage to drag my lazy ass to the gym, I have to learn how to balance the intensity I love with the limits of my body. I feel like I can only do a half-assed workout, because I'm afraid of pushing myself too hard. But those kinds of workouts are boring, and barely worth getting to the gym for. Moves that are quick to show results (read: painful) like squats and lunges are hard to do when I'm becoming more and more off-balance. So I trade those in for wall squats, which are just as painful if you do them long enough, but don't feel like they hit the same intensity level.

When I was at the gym 5 or 6 days I week I was taking a lot of group classes, which were a great way to keep me motivated and moving throughout the day and the actual workout. But since taking a few months off, I'm not sure if it would be a good idea to go back to those now, halfway through my pregnancy. I know everything you were doing prior is fine to do during, but what about when you took a couple months off in between?

The one exercise routine that feels the best and makes me feel as though I've gotten a great workout is yoga. I simultaneously feel loose and strong, relaxed and energized. I'm so glad I started to do this before I was pregnant so I knew what to expect, and it's given me such a great base that I feel I can still maintain throughout pregnancy. But I can't do yoga every day because if I don't mix things up I get bored.

And now, when something hurts, I don't push through it. General muscle strain, sure, but not any sort of pain around the abdomen that feels somewhat questionable. Before, pain was a measure of how hard I had worked. Now it's a way to tell me to slow down and not push it too far. I'm trying to meet my old fitness routine in the middle with this new one, but it's hard and somewhat frustrating.

Have any of you experienced this? What did you do to get back on track? How did you cope with your new limitations?

A Cocktail of Medications

I never knew having a cold could be so miserable.

Sure, you get tired and the runny nose is very annoying, but after a few days and a cocktail of medications, you're generally back on your feet and ready to take on the world.

Not so much when you're pregnant, apparently.

Since I couldn't take any medications, I was laid up in bed for a good week just wishing someone would punch me to knock me unconscious. I had pain radiating from my sinuses and my ears all the way down my throat, and I was completely unable to breathe through my stuffy nose. Not a good thing when you hate breathing through your mouth (and find it completely impossible to do so in order to sleep).

I'll spare you the gory details, but trust me: I was a pathetic mess.

It seems unfair that pregnancy makes you more susceptible to illness but then prevents you from partaking in modern medicine to make it tolerable. So my plan for the next six months is to live in a bubble. Just kidding. I do, however, plan to use lots of hand sanitizer and stay far, far away from anyone I know to have a runny nose or a tickle in their throat. Which I suppose is a good rule of thumb anyway, but now it seems imperative.

And it seems fitting that I would get what is now a going-on-11-day-cold just as I was getting over that whole morning (noon and night) sickness, so I have yet to experience the wonderful second trimester bliss of energy and general feel-goodness that has been promised to me.

I can sense its coming, though. As soon as I go blow my nose.