I have to admit, one of my favorite things about EBF was the result that it had on my body. Basically for 2 years after my daughter was born I ate what I wanted, exercised sporadically, and ended up weighing less than I had in my whole adult life. We are talking college weight - and I am almost 40!!
I knew in my head while this was going on that I needed to reign myself in. I needed to start eating better, I needed to exercise. I was "skinny flabby", I was wearing smaller and smaller sizes but I wasn't strong and I wasn't in shape - it wasn't pretty. I allowed myself to get excited about the numbers on the scale and the baggy clothes and to feel like one of those girls who say "I just have a naturally high metabolism". When in reality I have always been the opposite, I have to work out a lot to maintain a weight that I like and I have always felt I wanted to lose just 5 more pounds.
Well, my world of denial came crashing down hard this winter. I moved from sunny Southern California where we lived in a small town and I walked almost everywhere (pushing a Bob stroller), to Oregon at the beginning of the long, cold, grey, rainy winter. We dove right into the stress of house hunting, finding new childcare, meeting new people, and everything that comes with relocating right at the most tempting time of year...the holidays!
I had lived in Oregon before and knew it would be a challenge to be active in the winter, so as an incentive for me to work at keeping my new weight I gave away all of my clothes that were too big. I had been a size X for a long time, now I was easily in a size X-1 and was envisioning moving to X-2...so anything that was size X didn't get packed to make the trip. I continued to enjoy the effect breastfeeding burning extra calories, and I always meant to start a regular exercise routine, but with a demanding toddler, a husband, and a work-from-home part-time job I never felt I could justify taking the time.
We each had a suitcase in Oregon for the time we would be house hunting, those clothes slowly started getting snug through the winter, but it didn't really hit me for a while. Then, we bought and moved into our new house, we weaned our 2.5 year old daughter, and I finally unpacked all the clothes I had been longing for after 6 months with 3 pairs of pants and 6 shirts. Well...NOTHING fits!!! I can hardly get into any of my clothes, I have to totally sausage my legs into all my beloved designer jeans and the muffin top is unbearable. Only one pair of pants, that I almost gave away but felt nostalgic about for some reason, fits well enough for me to want to wear in public - but they are far from comfortable, and the fact that they were super big on me 6 months ago makes me feel awful every time I suck it in to get them buttoned.
Ugh! I'm fat and out of shape. I feel like I have a six month old instead of a toddler. I am at the point where I have to buy some new clothes or do a crash diet to get a jump start on some weight loss so I can wear at least 2 pairs of my pants. My weight is not catastrophic...it is basically right at what my adult normal weight had been for all my years when I was in full swing with my career. But it isn't where I am happy, it is where I feel just a smidge of discontent but not enough to push me away from the 10pm bowl of lucky charms before bed. Now, however, after finally (finally!) getting to the numbers I wanted on the scale and chucking all my "fat" clothes I feel a huge sense of disappointment in myself. Why am I always a "reactor"? Why couldn't I have made smarter food choices and gotten myself to the gym when I only needed to maintain a weight that I loved? Instead I stuck my head in the sand and ignored the signs along the way and ate my way out of all my clothes.
So...now what? Diet and work out like a maniac and try to attain that "happy weight" again? Or eat right and exercise enough and let my body find it's new normal...even if it means buying a few size X clothes again?
Honestly...I don't want to do either...I want to go back to nursing my daughter!
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