I
never thought twice about the two complete breakfasts I enjoyed every morning
before 9am. Having a slice of
pizza and the contents of the breadbasket at Terroni wasn’t a strange thing for
me during those nine months. I
relished my whole-wheat bagels with regular cream cheese. I was fairly addicted to Iced Caps from
Tim Horton’s. A cookie from Whole
Foods never really hurt anyone.
Same goes for the delicious biscotti from Starbucks. Bread was my best friend. I adored butter. And I was never been happier.
Sure
there’s a certain expectation that when you’re pregnant you’ll gain a sizeable
amount of weight. I never seemed
to let it bother me (all 75 pounds of it). Everywhere I went, people commented on how fantastic I
looked. I wore the same skintight
black dress to every occasion and reveled in the flattery and accolade. People said my big belly was
gorgeous. Strangers wanted to
touch me on the streets. I had
been given the license to eat and the world was LOVING me for it.
So,
baby girl was born on Dec 30th, and now 6 months later I have a good
25-30 pounds to lose. After a bit
of self-loathing and destruction I actually think I’m on my way back to sexy
again. After all, I can fit in a
Diane Von Furstenberg medium, and the compliments are starting to flow again.
I
know I’m not waif skinny yet (nor am I sure I ever want to be so little again)
but I’m comfortable and healthy right now. I’ve hired the most wonderful trainer, Kate, who is my
friend, support, advocate and relationship counselor. She pushes me at 6:30am to run, lift and crunch as hard as
possible. My baby and I pound the
pavement daily, usually about 17,000 steps a day (I bought a pedometer).
So
while I think things are going just peachy, I have one person who is not quite
as impressed. He’ll find a Twix
wrapper in my diaper bag and look at me with disgust. A ½ eaten cupcake found in my bag was near grounds for
divorce. There’s nothing better
than your husband walking into the bathroom where you’re finally relaxing in
the warm tub only to say, “lay off the peanut butter and honey sandwiches, I
thought you were on a diet”. Or to
receive a text message at 7:30am after you just got back from a great run that
says, you’re not really a fat person, just start your diet. Or I love you I just think you lack
self-control. Ughh…is he kidding??
Well,
a great trip to NYC always cures things for me. His good friend tells me I should UP the training sessions
and see a nutritionist. Spend his cash to shut his mouth? I think I’ll head south. See a few friends who still think I’m
FAB, cupcakes and all…At least they can appreciate that it took me nearly 10
months to grow my gorgeous daughter and it might just take that long to lose
the penthouse I so lovingly built for her.
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