My mother warned me years ago that if I ever were to get pregnant I’d be the kind that would get huge, the kind of huge that would inhibit my ability to drive a car. With those words ringing in my ears during my pregnancy I made sure to continue with my weekly Pilates class, I started swimming every other day, I even took a pregnancy yoga class with a psychotic yoga teacher (apparently there’s no such thing as pain, only pressure – 🙄). So, I was fairly proud of my ability to still drive myself to work at 8 months pregnant.
And then, with 6 weeks to go I developed PUPPS (Pruritic Uticarial Papules and Plaque of pregnancy – at least I think it was that, I wasn’t ever actually diagnosed, just monitored weekly). Itching constantly, hives everywhere. I had to bathe in oatmeal, sleep sitting up and swimming felt like I was being stung by 100 jellyfish. I felt truly sorry for myself. I stopped moving as much and the reasonable diet went by the wayside.
Fast forward to having the baby and I lose 10kg instantly. Then I spend hours sitting on my backside feeding my baby, supposedly burning 500 calories a day but the weight started creeping back up and a few months later I’m wondering why I weighed more then than the day I gave birth. Actually, I know very well why. Kit Kats. Did you know they come in packs of 21? #diedandgonetoheaven
So I decided to do something about this situation and I signed up to the local Buggyfit class. This involved driving 25 minutes to a park, meeting up with other mums and being led through a circuit around the park by a trainer. The premise was great, strength exercises interspersed with some speed walking around a lake, brilliant. Someone forgot to tell my kid this was a good thing. She was like a ticking time bomb. Would I get 10 minutes or 20 of her sitting in the pram before she lost her shit? And let me tell you, my kid doesn’t just whimper discontentedly. Nor does she give any prior warning before turning into a screaming banshee. One that would only be appeased if I got a boob out on a park bench and then carried her in a sling. This obviously hindered my ability to participate, although it was possible to do squats… So many squats.
And this happened every.single.week. Every single week, I would be told “just sort her out and catch up when you can.” So disheartening. And still I went, from April until June. Each week hoping this would be the week baby would give me an hour and stay in the pram. What is it they say about people doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome?
In the summer I decided I could do without the public humiliation, googled “how to lose baby weight” and found the Fit Mommy Trainer. A 15 day programme which I did several times over and finally started seeing some results. Maybe I would have seen more if I’d followed the accompanying diet… Hmm…..
So I exercise most days of the week, but I still need to get to grips with my diet. I know what I’m supposed to do. Biscuits, chocolate, ice cream – bad; kale, spinach, quinoa – good. Every day I wake up and tell myself I’m going to eat better and I do try… But the very fact that I’m eating a chocolate chip cookie as I write this shows you how often I succeed. That said, I haven’t had a Kit Kat in ages but can we talk about Yorkie Mansize buttons…?