About a month ago, on a routine Target trip, I snagged up a suit for the summer sun. The happy, green two-piece swimsuit hangs in my closet amidst all of my other clothes that no longer seem to fit quite right and it stares me in the face each time I wrestle with what to wear … judging my enhanced pear-shaped pudge each time. I’ve yet to try the swimsuit on … to have done so in the fluorescent lit box they call a dressing room at Target would have surely sent me into mental madness and I can’t seem to muster up enough gumption to attempt such an emotional feat even in the comfort of my own home.
The nearly 30 pounds I packed on during pregnancy are almost a memory however the evidence still remains that a human lived inside of me for almost 9 months. My rear has taken on a more ample appearance, my thighs resemble the hood of a car caught in a hail storm, my arms are similar to those of a linebacker and my stomach seems to have grown a whole new section of skin… but hey, I’ve still got my smile and my girlish charm… and of course we have a little piece of perfection in baby Barrett. But seriously, who knew that a four and a half pound babe could need so much extra room in the womb and beyond? Small but mighty, Barrett left his mark on the majority of my makeup and this mama is trying to make her way back.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been a small-boned gal. My weight has been up and down throughout my years and I’ve been on all ends of the spectrum. I’ve certainly never lived the life of a stick figure but at times I’ve been lighter … I’ve been heavier… and mostly been somewhere right in the middle. Over the past few years my primary focus has been my health and the more average physique that came from countless hours on the elliptical was a secondary bonus. But now, with B on the brain and less hours in the day (that must be true, right?!) I find myself wondering exactly how to make toning and retouching a priority.
In my mind, every single piece of clothing that I purchase these days is temporary… necessary only until my hips miraculously morph back to their pre-pregnancy proportions and my once-flatter-than-i-thought stomach no longer resembles a jello salad. For the first two months after Barrett was born, I refused to purchase anything for myself … believing that because I had exercised up until my last two weeks of bedrest, I would awake one morning to a bounced back bod… and knowing that it was more fun to buy for double B. I finally purchased some jeans for $19 at Old Navy (again, my short-term stopgap). I have no issue with Old Navy… I’m not a clothes snob who only dons designer duds however, the particular pair that I selected were clearly a poor choice. Apparently, the flimsy fabric was no match for my fluid flab as every single time I stood up I had to uncrease the waistband that had been swallowed by my stomach and my thunder thighs would stretch the seams to max throughout the day to leave me looking like I was rocking the ever so popular Hammer pants of the 90’s. I will occasionally slip the Sweetheart style on when I am running around the house but to appear in public in this purchase is not something I am currently pursuing.
When I was pregnant, the first purchase of maternity wear I made was a very tight tee which read Love Makes the Belly Go Round. I wore it proudly even before I was truly showing to make certain everyone was aware that I was bearing a bundle. When women are pregnant, it’s expected, even adorable, to be busting out a belly but once that babe is born, it is a societal expectation today that women quickly bounce back. In fact, I’ve yet to find a shirt that reads Not Pudgy, Just Postpartum or Just Had a Human.
The paparazzi snap pics of a teensy tiny Angelina post-twins, John and Kate plus tummy tuck and Tori Spelling looking scarily skinny post-Stella and congratulate them on their bangin’ bods yet they never seem to have their little ham on the hip. Yet, the tabloids chastize stars such as J Lo and Jennifer Garner for their perceived lengthened battle of the post-baby bulge by posting pics of them about town with their tots and their tummies in tow. I think if I were a celeb I would carry Barrett in one arm and a big, buttery croissant in the other to let them know that I don’t want to make my baby wait while I work on my baby weight.
I would love to say that I don’t care about society because I have a beautiful baby boy to ogle over me but that would just be a dirty lie. Do I completely adore our sweet baby Barrett and believe he was worth the gain? Absolutely! Am I about to admit that I don’t mind my thighs because of my adoration for Barrett? Probably not. I am determined though that by the end of the summer, I will be getting along with my new suit swimmingly … and when that doesn’t happen, I suppose I will start to embrace my metamorphosis into a more mama-like maiden. Until then, the one and only benefit of having Barrett at such a small state is that people believe that I have just popped him out… I figure I can ride that wave until he’s about 6 months or so…