I cannot wait for this summer. There are so many things I am looking forward to, so many things I want to accomplish that I really do hope this summer will be one of a permanent change.
The Farmer's Markets will soon be opening, allowing us to eat fresher and seasonally.
The Good Baby will turn one
I will have finished my first semester in graduate school, hopefully with a 4.0 GPA
I will have completed my mind/body stress reduction class
I will be able to stop pumping breast milk for TGB
And finally, but most importantly, I will be able to exercise again.
Everything I have read about breastfeeding (and I read a ton and attended several classes and still not all my questions were answered - but that is a separate post) says to not exercise because an acid can build up in your milk and your baby won't eat it. That seems a little strange to me but hey, any excuse I have to not move my ass is good with me.
Did you also know that while you are nursing you HAVE to eat an additional 500 calories a day? Hot damn! Pass me the cookies.
You see where this is going?
I was able to keep my pregnancy weight gain to 15 pounds and the day I left the hospital I weighed less then my first OB appointment. Now before you want to glass me, keep in mind that I was a member of the fatties before I got pregnant so I was advised to gain NO MORE than 15 pounds. But I know how easy it is to say "I am growing a freaking human here people, pass me that bacon double cheeseburger."
But I was lucky like a case of herpes to get gestational diabetes. I had to test my blood sugar seven times a day and I was placed on insulin. My blood sugar levels were so high when I failed my glucose test it set an office record and even after 2 months on insulin I had to be placed on a second dose of insulin my blood sugar levels were so bad.
So that is the only way I didn't gain 55 pounds during pregnancy. I couldn't drink milk, I couldn't touch a carb and fruit was out of the question. I didn't even have a piece of my baby shower cake.
Both my OB and my endocrinologist speculated I might have been borderline type 2 diabetic before I was pregnant. But there was no way to prove it.
With gestational diabetes you have a 2 out of 3 chance of getting it again with each pregnancy. So most likely I will have this again. But with diet and exercise I should be in a better place in two years when we try to conceive again.
So why didn't my fat ass get out and walk after I had The Good Baby? Postpartum depression and anxiety.
Like a case of herpes with hemorrhoids.
Any new mother will tell you that the first few months are about survival only. I was lucky to get sleep or a shower or brush my teeth, so eating the diabetes diet every 2 1/2 to 3 hours was not happening. By Christmas TGB was six months old and sleeping through the night. But it was the middle of winter and I was packing on my winter weight.
I told myself that my feelings of depression and anxiety were normal and everything would be better once TGB was sleeping in her own room, once she got over teething, once I am able to stop pumping breast milk. I stupidly enrolled in graduate school thinking I needed a distraction.
So the weight slowly crept up. Depression over my new life, my new role and coping with my new body did nothing to ease the pain that the life I knew before TGB was no more. So I ate that cookie and the bacon double cheeseburger and I now weight 15 pounds more then I did at my first OB appointment.
But I feel for the first time in almost a year like I have a grasp on my life, that I am able to control it in a way I couldn't before when every moment seemed to be slipping though my fingers as gently as razorblades.
I feel confident that I can change my body. I can be a great role model for TGB. I can teach her to love food but to not be a slave to fat or calories. I know there will be roadblocks along the way. I know there will be setbacks. I know there will be days when I want to give up and wish everything would just go away. But I know I can do this. I can face this challenge.
And I hope I will kick it's ass.