My pregnancy was smooth sailing. I couldn't have been luckier. I casually exercised at the beginning of my pregnancy, but really let it take a back seat because of how tired I was most of the time. By the time I hit the mid point, I was so used to doing nothing that I continued doing nothing.
I've always had a huge self image problem. I was never thin enough regardless of my weight. I'm pretty sure what I saw in the mirror was not how other people saw me. I currently weigh the most I've ever weighed in my entire life (not pregnant). Not a single thing I wore when I found out I was pregnant with Ryan in January fits today. Part of me knows I had a baby just 10 weeks ago - 7 of which I was not cleared for exercise. But the other part of me feels like this has always been my life. Like I've always had Ryan and I should just be thin again already.
I return to work soon and had to go out and buy new clothes, just so that I didn't have to wear too-big maternity clothes back to work. The size on the tags were like a huge blow to the gut. It made me want to cry.
I'm obsessive compulsive about it. I count calories to death, I work out - but there isn't much more I can do beyond that, but sit and think about how much weight I have to lose and how much time it's going to take. It's terrible. It makes me feel terrible. I always knew this was part of pregnancy. I tried so hard to talk myself through it ahead of time to make it all ok. I'm now realizing just how hard of a time I'm actually having with it.
I've been counting calories for a week and a half now, going to the gym or getting on the treadmill at home. I've registered for a half marathon with a friend who had a baby in July and we're working our way in to training for the June race. I have half of my baby weight to lose still, plus the pounds I was up when I got pregnant. It's going to be a long hard road, and I wish it didn't have to be.