Weighing the issue.

Thank goodness it's already Wednesday. With Andrew's new job, I talk to him less during the day, so my days pass pretty slowly.

We'll be leaving for the gym in a few hours. I sure need it today! I just need to blow off some steam and get a little break. I've been losing a few pounds here and there but I'm sure most of you remember my struggles after Lucy and this time around is no different. Some women lose weight while breastfeeding, others watch their bodies lock down and hold on to every pound until they wean. I fall into the latter category, making my efforts feel like a waste some days. I'm always hungry because I'm nursing a great breastfeeder who's growing by the second, but I can't eat very much without really feeling it. There's a 5-pound variance each day when you're nursing, so some days the scale shows progress, and other days it shows a sad failure, regardless of how hard I'm working. I usually have Special K or a multi-grain light english muffin for breakfast, a spinach salad or Lean Cuisine for lunch and a balanced dinner. My snacks are usually under 300 calories, and I try to avoid snacking if possible. And I work out. I hit the gym 5 days a week, I run with Andrew in the evenings and I chase my little darlings all day long. And here I am, still waiting for that magical breastfeeding weight-loss miracle.
This time around, I'm not depressed. I'm getting into great shape and my body is reliable and feeling great. I can SEE and FEEL changes, even though the scale hasn't budged in...6 months. No worries. For the first time in a very long time, I'm proud of my body and I'm able to stop staring at the scale so much.
Why do I write about weight and my struggle to accept myself on a regular basis? Because I can guarantee you that more than 2/3 of the women reading this blog think about it at LEAST twice daily, and they probably feel as alone as I do some days. My body image problems and issues with eating have been around since I was about 13, and I'm just now, a decade and a half later, learning to accept myself and not compare my body to other people.
I know a lot of women who are pregnant right now, and weight gain is a hot topic when you're pregnant or about to deliver. People tell you you're looking great when you suspect you're probably looking large and frumpy. You can't stop eating and everyone just winks and says, "That's okay, you're eating for two!" and you have no idea how much you'll resent them for feeding you so much later. I know a lot of women who are about to start agonizing over fitting into skinny jeans again, who are dreading the holidays and who don't have a support system because all of their friends are skinny. I'm your friend, and I'm only skinny on every other February 29th. And that's just in my fantasy world.
When you're pregnant, people tell you that breastfeeding is difficult and you think, "That's okay. It'll help me lose weight." The truth is, it might not. What seems to work for some people may not work for you. It's not a weight-loss tool. It's simply a way to give your baby a great start and to find a few very special moments in the middle of a lot of adjustments. Breastfeeding Lucy was horribly difficult. She hated it, and I began to resent the fact that I kept having to pull up my shirt with little to show for my efforts. Sure it burned 500 extra calories per day, but whose calories? Certainly not mine!
With Molly, I didn't expect the pounds to fly off and I didn't expect it to be easy. I was pleasantly surprised and Molly loves to nurse. She's obnoxious when she's around me, pulling at my shirt, screeching and leaving big wet spots all over my clothes as she searches for food. It's oddly complementing. But I haven't seen those pounds flying off, much to my anticipated disappointment. So I'm stopped listening to the promises those pregnancy magazines made and am working hard to be content with my extra ten. Instead of grousing and complaining, I'm working my posterior off, turning it into muscle. If it's not going to come off, it had better start doing more than just keeping me warm. I look for compliments from Lucy instead of my skinny friends. She thinks I'm a "silly mommy" and that my rice-cooking skills are second-to-none. She has no idea there are ten pounds I wish she wasn't hugging. Andrew, my constant support, thinks I'm gorgeous no matter what I weigh, and I love that about him. And Molly? She'd be devastated if I forced her to give up something she loves so dearly, and her happiness is my first priority. Someday these last few pounds will come off, and that'll mean I'm not nursing my sweet babies anymore. It almost makes me settle for ten over. :-)