Oh, baby weight: so easy to gain. Near impossible to lose.
Ever since our beautiful 10 pound, 9 ounce baby came in to
this world, people always say the same thing whenever they hold her: You must
have some awesome arm muscles!
I suppose I do—but those muscles are not-so-conveniently
hiding under the extra 30 40 pounds
of post-pregnancy weight I’ve been luggin’ around since April.
See, when we first started talking about trying to get
pregnant, I decided one thing: I would enjoy pregnancy to the fullest. Although
I pray we are blessed with several more healthy pregnancies and beautiful
babies—I know that’s not guaranteed.
Therefore, I wanted to make sure I reveled in all that pregnancy had to
offer—from indulging in the midnight cravings to full on embracing the
“pregnancy waddle.”
Well, like many people, my pregnancy was far from easy. I
suffered from something called pubic symphysis—where my bones relaxed too much, resulting in the most unimaginable
pain ever. Seriously, this pain was 1000x worse than the actual childbirth. I
couldn’t roll over in bed, couldn’t get in the car, or even sit down in a chair
without tears springing to my eyes. Coincidentally, this pain resulted in a
very early pregnancy walk—I was waddling like a woman heading for the delivery
room by four months (talk about embracing pregnancy pains!). And by 8 months,
my doctor didn’t feel comfortable with me driving anymore (after my leg went
numb while driving one day), and I was put on modified bed rest for the
remainder of my pregnancy.
On top of that, around six months, I started to itch. Itch. So. Bad. All the effing time. It
was winter at the time—so I chalked the itching up to my stretching skin and
the cold (well, Florida cold) air. I was slathering on Cortisone
lotion 24/7—I literally looked like a pink-version of an Avatar for the last 3
months of my pregnancy.
I was going through some changes with my midwife (my actual
midwife—who I absolutely love and adore—was on maternity leave herself—and I
was stuck with an awful replacement, who could have cared less about my “normal
aches and pains.” Thank God my amazing original midwife returned in time to
deliver our baby girl!) and never thought to bring up the itching at any of my
appointments (lesson learned). Finally, a little over a week before my due
date—and with scratch marks covering my body—my husband mentioned the itching at
one of my bi-weekly appointments. I was seeing yet another midwife that day—and she took my itching seriously and
decided to draw some blood just to make sure everything was okay.
Fast forward a week later, to Friday, April 5th
(one day before my due date and nowhere near going in to labor by myself), I
received a frantic call from my midwife telling me I needed to get to the
hospital to be induced—now. I will
never forget the moment. I was sitting in the car at a stoplight with my mom
and sister (who were in town waiting for Lacey’s arrival). Ross was at his new
job in Daytona (it was his first week!)—an hour away from our hospital and
unreachable by cell phone. I immediately started to cry and half-listened as
the midwife explained that the itching was caused by cholestasis—basically
meaning, pregnancy was causing my liver to shut down and if left-untreated caused
a highly increased risk of a still born baby. Aka: we had to get baby girl out
of my body.
Long story, short: we made it to the hospital to be induced
early that evening, spent 36 hours in those awful hospital beds (or in an
even-worse hospital chair—as was the case for Ross, my parents, and sister),
and our wonderful and healthy, chunky monkey was born at 8:39 A.M. on Sunday, April
7th.
My point to this story is—that between the pregnancy
complications and the normal pregnancy cravings—I was seriously lacking on the working out but doing more than my
share of partaking in the eating out.
I mean, if stuffing my face was worthy of an Olympic Medal, I would have been
getting at least a bronze. And before I knew it, I found myself in the car with
my family, receiving the news of my imminent induction at a whopping 60 pounds
heavier. Ick.
People are so wonderful to the diluted pregnant—assuring me I’d lose
half of it before I even left the hospital—and the other half from
breastfeeding. HAH! I quickly learned one thing-- pregnancy weight gain is just
like pregnancies or new babies in one major weigh way: no two mommies
will gain or lose weight the same. The lucky few do lose the weight before they
check out of the hospital 48 hours later. Some struggle with those last 5
pounds for years. Yet others spend the rest of their lives feeling
sub-conscious of their post-baby bodies.
For me, I lost 20 pounds while in the hospital (almost 11 of
which was Lacey herself). Over the next six months, I “semi-dieted” my way down
another 20 pounds. The holidays came and went, and I managed to gain back
5 pounds. Boohoo.
After our return from our Christmas in Phoenix, I promised
myself to become refocused and lose these last 30 pounds once and for all. I mean,
my sister’s getting married in May and I refuse to be flaunting a post-baby
body in a bridesmaid’s dress (especially since my “baby” won’t even technically
be a baby by then!). In the past 3 and a half weeks, I’ve managed to lose
exactly 9 whole pounds! Sadly, I don’t
see a difference yet—but boy do I love stepping on that scale each morning and
seeing those numbers drop.
Over the next several months, I’ll be sure to check in often
with my weight loss journey. I know it’s going to get tougher—but if I can do
it, you can too! Here’s to a bikini (okay, maybe a tankini) body by summer! ;)
Are you on a mission to lose weight yourself? Have any
secrets to your post-baby weight loss success? Leave a comment and let me know!
See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama
Your Daily Dose of Lace: our 10 pound, 9 ounces bundle of joy
Bg vv b mnb b <<Lacey’s Blog Post
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