The Struggle is Real

Y'all. I'm back to the grind.  Meaning....I had a training assessment with an awesome personal trainer and friend of mine this morning.  And now I'm sitting here chugging water and eating a Trader Joe's arugula, couscous and chicken salad for lunch. Yummy.  (True story, it's actually good, and I love healthy food).  I'm now strategically planning out next month's workouts since I have four weeks until I go back to work.

I don't even want to talk about how depressing that is.  4 more weeks with my munchkin.  Makes me sad.  Like my hero Scarlett O'hara said, "I'll think about that tomorrow".

Back to the story at hand. I looked at myself in the gym mirrors today with fresh eyes taking in a more shapely, rounded out Rebecca.  It was tough, because prior to getting pregnant, I was in full on beast mode throwing around heavy weights and doing things like 150 pound sled pushes while grown men stared at me with their jaws open. It was awesome.  I felt really strong and really proud of myself. 

Not that I didn't love being pregnant and proud of myself for bringing into the world the most BEAUTIFUL little nugget ever.  

(Insert shameless baby photo op here)...

COULD YOU DIE AT THE CUTENESS!?!?!?!?!?

I digress....

The other part of being proud of myself while pregnant was that I walked, I did yoga, Pilates and I pretty much ate lots of healthy stuff all along.  I indulged from time to time.  The last 3 months were incredibly taxing both mentally and physically. And at the end of everything, I gained 32 pounds.  Nothing terrible! And I had a pretty grueling labor ending up in surgery. 8 weeks out, I'm not in any pain and I am starting to feel back to normal. I have run some and even lifted some weights on my back porch.  I'm not where I need to be, but hey it's a start. 

But I got on that rowing machine this morning, rowed 1000 meters, and got a good side glance of myself in those mirrors. 

Those thighs y'all....well those got bigger.  I pulled in and out and felt my flabby stomach hit my knees over and over again and was like....well dang, that's new. I felt the soreness in my legs for the first time after rowing and thought....I used to bust out 1000 meters in no time, surely I can do it again. It took close to 6 minutes.  My butt looks like an extension of my back and has gotten flat. I definitely don't have "back" for right this moment. Hello pancake butt. 

The struggle is real.  Growing a human turned me into a soft and paunchy short lady that looks a lot different and hides behind maternity jeans and flowy shirts for now.  I have stretch marks all over my stomach. Can you say "tankini for the rest of my life"? My knees are creakier. That salad was good, but my husband's late night pizza in the fridge is calling my name, but I'm fighting the good fight.  "The girls" need their own zip code.  Good LORD. I think a plastic surgery fund may be in order.

I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself.  In fact, I was lying on an operating table hacked open about 8 weeks ago this time unable to feel anything below my boobs giving birth to the sweetest little girl.  As I was talking with my trainer yesterday about why I wanted to train, my main reason is to be strong for my daughter.  She needs to see mommy doing squats and lunges, running around with suns out guns out, and know that it's OK to be a girly girl, but you can do a serious dead lift if you need to.  She needs to know that mommies and daughters can be physically strong, and be strong for their families too. Being a good role model for her is just my thing and has been my goal all along. 

Thing is, having a child makes you re-evaluate your life.  Your concern for yourself becomes 2nd to that little tiny lifeform that depends on you for so much.  Try texting someone while feeding an infant and watch the rage take place when you don't hold the bottle just right. But in the end, I have to be healthy for this little girl and I'm diving back in headfirst. I am the heaviest I've ever been (well, minus at 9 months pregnant), but I'm excited to see where I am in a few weeks. 

Like Jax Teller said..."I got this"...

Stay tuned, new posts to follow after starting training next week!

Life as of Lately

I've just now realized that I didn't even post about Lila Eve's birth story! Sorry you guys.  You can read about it here. Having a newborn makes you forget so many things.  Like where I put my grocery list.  Or where my car keys are.  Or trying to remember if I fed my child 3 hours ago. 

That's life as of lately. 

Life has drastically changed with my little one in the picture.  Late nights no longer consist of glasses of wine with my girls, they consist of feedings and diaper changes while I'm barely awake. My quick trips to the grocery store or Target are long gone. They require a sitter or a grandparents to just go and accomplish a small task.  My moments alone are spent napping or cleaning, not getting a pedicure.

I say all this with all of the love in my heart, because I truly wouldn't change it for the world.  I was not prepared for what a baby would be like.

I know, I know, you guys are all like...WELL YOU HAD 9 MONTHS TO PREPARE, HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE!?

Ok sure, I was prepared in the sense I had a nursery assembled and semi put-together prior to her arrival.  I had diaper bags packed with 12309123128 outfits for the hospital.  10 hats and 5 sets of headbands.  I read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" front to back.  I even bookmarked pages for Jarrett and quizzed him on all of the stages of labor.  I was prepared for a non-medicated natural birth followed by a beautiful experience breastfeeding and bonding with my child.  And then Care Bears would fill the room and sing a song about caring.  

Well, what I wasn't prepared for were all of the other things.  They need to write a book called "What You Don't Expect after You've Expected".  Or something like that. 

What I wasn't prepared for was my doctor telling us at 34 weeks that my baby was small and that she would make her appearance into the world early.  I started to panic making OTHER plans, realizing that the plan was that there would be no plan.

I wasn't prepared for putting my career aside and making it a second priority.  I had been so career driven for so long that the second I knew she was coming to meet us early, all of the emails, meetings and stress took a backseat. 

I wasn't prepared for caving for an epidural after about 2 hours of labor.  I felt like a HUGE wimp.

I wasn't prepared for my best friend showing up ON HER BIRTHDAY and sitting in the room with me watching the baby's heartrate and my contractions.  It's one of the best moments I could have shared with her, and we've had some beautiful ones. 

I wasn't prepared for how emotional that day would be.  Disappointment, then acceptance, followed by exhilaration, followed by immediate love.  

I wasn't prepared for hearing that first cry and thinking it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.  Weeks of worry washed away in cries that provided instant relief.  And then new worry. 

I wasn't prepared for looking over at my husband and feeling love swell so big I thought my heart would explode in the room and that surgeons would have to put it back together. 

I wasn't prepared for how much my family, friends and neighbors would pitch in to take care of me. 

I wasn't prepared for feeling like a complete and total failure at breastfeeding only to realize it wasn't about me anymore, it was about feeding my child.  IF that meant that milking a goat on top of the Swiss Alps, I was prepared to do it. 

I wasn't prepared to do just about anything for my child.  Like rock her to sleep for the 4th time after having a cranky night.  Or try 5 different swaddles only to realize she wants to sleep with her arms out. Or talk to her in the DUMBEST voice in the world.  But she loves it!

I wasn't prepared for those silvery purple stripes that appeared on my abdomen.  I look down at them shocked and sometimes disappointed in the fact that bikinis are probably a thing of the past.  But they're a badge of honor for getting her here, and I grew something awesome beneath those marks. 

I wasn't prepared to look in the mirror and see the bags under my eyes and the fact that my teeth may not have been brushed in 24 hours.  Feeling so put together for all my life went right out the window. 

I wasn't prepared to cry massive tears all over her little baby head telling her I loved her and would definitely screw things up at some point, but that I would be the best mom I could.  She slept and I just breathed in that amazing baby head smell that day and soaked it all in.

I wasn't prepared to love a little life form instantly.  I heard people talk about it.  For some of my friends, it took time for them.  Others fell in love instantly.  I did.  I saw her, she was mine, and I knew life would never be the same. 

It's been a whirlwind 6 weeks of tears, emotions, broken appliances, money drained, sleepless nights, and more diapers than I can count.  I've held little celebrations over things like adding another ounce to her bottle.  Or reaching the 7 pound mark, because she was TINY at 4 pounds 7 ounces.  I even danced around the living room one night dancing with her to "My Girl" with my door wide open for probably my entire neighborhood to see.  And I did not care at how foolish I looked at all.  I just cared how much I loved her. 

Writing has taken on a new life form for me.  Although this blog is not as busy with fitness posts as it used to be, it's still my place, my outlet, my little corner to write about my feelings.  I hope you all read this and share a little love with your families tonight.  Or if you have kids, no matter what age, you tell them you love them.  I sit here and stare at her little sleeping self next to me and cannot imagine life without her in it.  

Much love to you all! This chubby spin instructor is now a chubby (FOR NOW) proud mommy!