Hard as I try not to obsess over my body size and appearance, the constant barrage of messages saying I should instantly be thin again is pretty hard to ignore. Ten months after giving birth to my second child, I’m about ten pounds off my pre-baby weight. Having put on 3.5 stone with this last pregnancy, that’s not bad right?! Sadly it’s the last ten pounds that transforms me from Potato to Woman…
In the run up to our holiday, every magazine I saw brandished a headline saying “Back to Pre-Baby Weight [24 hours / 2 days / 1 week] After Giving Birth” alongside a picture of perfect abs belonging to KK, Cheryl Cole, Janet Jackson, super duper supermodel…Abs Abs Abs everywhere. It has become so extreme that when I saw Cheryl Cole casually strewn across her boat deck, I thought it a was positive thing that she looked like that after four months, at least it wasn’t two weeks like the rest of them. FOUR MONTHS! FUCK OFF! Who looks like that four months after giving birth?! I can barely feel my abs ten months on, never mind have them ripping through my sheer cover-up when I’m lying flat. And I work out five times a week! I mean mine are in there somewhere but there are no visible ripples. I reminded myself that they are celebrities. They have trainers, chefs and nutritionists. Their careers are built on their bodies looking great. Satisfied that the MumTum was safe for today, I checked Facebook only to be hit with the “I just-fit-in-my-pre-baby-jeans-ten-days-after-giving-birth” brigade. FUCK OFF AGAIN! I don’t begrudge them it, well done and all that, but what the hell? Where is all your baby jelly?! Why can you do pregnancy so much better than me?! Even as I’ve lost weight this year (two stone so far) and fit back into some of my clothes, my top buttons are still separated from their holes. I was ordering something the other day (some THINX actually, I’m giving them a bash!), but they were in American sizes. The hip and waist sizes were about 8 inches apart, as you would expect (waist 32-34”, hips 40-42”) and I remembered my own measurements used to be a solid ten inches apart. Since the US-shipped pants would be a pain to return, I decided to measure myself before ordering. Big mistake. It turns out that my hips and waist measurements are currently the same. Which officially makes me a potato.
I had seen the holiday pictures, I know I’m not at my most slender best but to be a potato shape? Come on! I’ve barely eaten this year! This last statement is a lie. I have eaten. My problem is that I’m a sugar addict and whilst I can maintain a weight eating lots of sugar, I cannot lose it. Weight loss is a real bore for me. I have lost my two stone doing the Forever Living C9 every couple of months. It’s 9 days of not eating very much but my exercise habits have become really well established, and my food consumption is infinitely better than it was. I do get hungry and a little grumpy while I’m doing it but it’s only 9 days. It means that the rest of the time, I don’t have to explain to my girlies why I’m drinking smoothies instead of eating toast with them (Mummy is not allowed). Or why we can’t go into the bakery for gingerbread men today (Mummy has no willpower). Or why we’re not eating the same thing for dinner (Mummy is Clean living this week). I’ve talked before about my deep vehemence not to have my daughters obsessed with their weight and appearance. Ordinarily we talk about healthy, good-for-you foods, and our exercise regime is very visible to the Girlies. No1 knows where the yoga mat is and pretends my mini dry shampoos and hairsprays are weights. She can downward dog with the best of us! No2 bounces on her bottom while we’re star jumping. It’s a good start, and it’s nothing to do with standing on scales, measuring thighs or crying into the biscuit barrel. The sooner I get back to normal the better.
My aims are to be fit, healthy and toned, and back to pre-baby weight. But I was made to feel bad the other day when I bumped into a new Potential Friend – you know the kind, you cross over at various classes but you’ve not yet made the jump to meet up on your own? She told me she doesn’t drink though so sadly I don’t think she is my NBF. I can’t be Besties with someone who will remember everything from a night out. Anyway she has seen a nutritionist to shift the “baby remains” (an unfortunate choice of expression, I’m not sure English is her first language!) and get back to her wedding weight. I was slightly taken aback, my target weight is pre-baby, but that is still just over a stone heavier than my wedding weight. Have I let myself go?! Should I be aiming to get back to wedding weight? That was hard work. I spent all my free time in the gym and didn’t drink alcohol or eat biscuits for months before the wedding. It was such a bore. And now I’m in my mid-thirties, I have two children, a house, a husband, a pet tortoise, do I really need to be a TopShop size ten? Is this what letting yourself go means?! I don’t think I have…I still care what I look like, I make an effort most days, and I definitely care whether my husband is attracted to me. I know that I can carry a little extra weight without looking bad because of my height and I look back at pre-baby pictures and think even though I thought I was fat at the time, I looked great. Now I have let go of my dreams of being discovered by Storm while out shopping with my friends, have I let myself go? Do I really need to put myself and my family through the grumpiness that will come with potentially another two c9’s?! I don’t think it’s fair. I want to focus on being fit and eating healthily….but I still want to eat chocolate Hobnobs.
The problem is that the world makes you obsessed with your body and what you have. I have always thought I have had a fairly healthy attitude towards my body – I accept the things I can’t change and I don’t moan about things without doing something about it. But the post baby bod is a difficult one – you can’t help but feel bad when other people are leaving the hospital with a newborn, a thigh gap and a six pack. The press are particularly awful on the matter though. It heaps pressure on at a time where you’re trying to do too many other things. Eating cake should be totally acceptable at a time when you’re up all hours, running around, feeding, teaching, loving, caring, crying and all the other millions of things we have to do in the first year of our babies’ lives. I think there should be a worldwide ban on referencing baby weight in the first 12 months after someone has given birth. I think we should start a campaign, under the hashtag – #StayAwayFromTheMumTum. Just as soon as I’ve eaten last packet of party rings. I’m C9-ing again from tomorrow, this last 10lb will be gone! I might have pie for dinner though. And custard for dessert. And obviously chocolate Hobnobs for a late night snack….