This post can be summed up thusly: AAAARG baby weight, GTFO.
I’ve been at my new gym for a month, and I’ve seen the most consistent progress so far that I have seen since Lis was born. Namely, I am six pounds down, an inch off my waist, and two and a half freaking inches off my chest (ahh, boobs. That’s where I really like to store my extra weight, so that they can SMOTHER ME IN MY SLEEP). So, that’s some decent progress. I can tell me face looks thinner. My shin splints are fading, though my knee and my ankle hurt like a…well, honestly, I was going to use the time old honored word here, but I don’t see how a bitch can hurt, or even what that MEANS other than “a lot”, but why does it even mean that?
[Note: The Urban Dictionary tells me probably stems from the term “bitchn’, but seriously? How did bitchin’ come to mean what it means? Where is the ORIGIN?]
ANYWAYS, I’m not sure that phrase is even adequate, because I was sitting cross legged on the floor, and Lis sat down on my lap, like always does, but she leaned a little heavily on my ankle and I started screaming, and when she got off, I was whimpering, laying on the floor.
I might want to get that checked out.
Also noticed: sleeping better, no funny tingling in my hands, shoulders, or arms at night, more energy, less hungry (WTF?), random muscles showing up, some of my flexibility has returned, and my clothes are loose (as in, Lis pulled on my jeans and they fell off. In the kitchen. In front of Vor. Who died laughing) So, yay, new gym!
But I have such a long way to go. It’s so frustrating. I know there’s a variety of reasons this happened—bad post-partum period, surgery, not sleeping for more than hour for almost a year, work, lack of time, my own inherent dislike of gyms, my evil metabolism that thinks there is a famine out there and that I need to retain every single pound in order to survive, etc. But It’s eighteen (18!) months later, and I’m just now getting a handle on this? Ugh. This is EXACTLY what I was afraid of when it came to pregnancy and weight. I just KNEW I would be in this position. KNOW THYSELF.
It’s also frustrating, because I’m on Twitter and I follow other people, like one does on Twitter, and some of them had babies five months ago and are in their pre-pregnancy clothes, and there’s one who had a kid like a month and a half ago and is in pre-pregnancy clothes, and bemoaning the fact that she has still has ten pounds to take off, and just UGH. I know everyone has their own body and their own issues, but… am I not normal here? Should I have taken this off by the time Lis hit a year, other problems or no other problems?
I just feel like I can’t be the only person who never lost a single pound of baby weight after birth, and yet, it seems like I am (seriously. Not a thing. Oh, sure, after she was born, for like two days, I was down 8 pounds, but it reappeared within THREE DAYS. I wasn’t eating that much. I have no idea why or where or how).
Also, I realize that five pounds in one month is reasonable and probably very sustainable, but seriously? Five pounds in a month? It’s going to take me forever to take the baby weight off at this rate.
I think part of my problem is impatience combined with excitement. I’m excited that I am seeing results, so I am impatient to see more. I am excited about the idea of fitting into my old clothes and maybe obtaining a few new items, so I am impatient to do so. This is making me sound like a kid around Christmas presents. Real mature, Grace. Real mature.
Truly though, the point is, I’ve found something that works and I am working at it, and that’s all I can do right now.