Visible Monday: Scale
I spent years and years not weighing myself. Whenever I went to the doctors and they insisted I get on the scale for their own records, I did so but asked they refrain from announcing the number. I just went with the idea that if my clothes fit, I’m doing all right. I would not recommend this as a weight loss strategy.
Then Oprah said something about owning your number instead of it owning you and a bell went off. Ignorance was not bliss, it was just fear when it came to my body. I held my breath, got back on the scale and have owned it ever since. (Oprah 2016!)
I gained 30 lbs this pregnancy. Nine days postpartum I am feeling fantastic and am curious about my body. Curious mind you — not stressed, not worried, not concerned. I feel too good for any of that crap. With Arlo I was terrified about losing “the weight”. All you hear/read about is how it never comes off, kids ruin your body, etc. I really thought I was screwed. Twelve days postpartum with Arlo and I had lost 24 of my 29 lbs (for the record I never lost that final five). I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head when seeing that number. I could get back to my life and my baby, carefree. About my weight at least.
So this morning, nine days after Farrah’s birth, I woke up starving and feeling quite empty and flat so I decided to weigh myself. Curious. With experience under my tightening belt I was not surprised to see I have lost 21 of 30 lbs. I do want to lose the remaining nine pounds because I know the limit of my pre-pregnancy wardrobe – which I like very much and worked hard to obtain – and it doesn’t have nine pounds to spare. But all in good time. I’ll be holding on to the fat for my exclusively breastfed infant for a little while then tap in to my reserves, which, because I never stopped breastfeeding my first child, are plenty.
Meanwhile, I eat, eat, eat and nurse, nurse, nurse and curiosity satisfied, get on with my life and baby, carefree.