After steadily losing weight for almost two years, it’s very difficult to watch yourself gain it back, even if it is because you’re growing a tiny human.
Weight Watchers was my life from January 2014 until we moved to Alabama in August 2015. I was dedicated, determined, and disciplined (most of the time). We were intentional about exercising and working hard to be able to run our first 5K. I was hoping we would achieve that goal in October 2015, but moving and finding out I was pregnant threw us for one heck of a loop.
Where we lived in Georgia, we had several awesome places to exercise. These places were scenic, beautiful, close to our home, and made finding an excuse to not go really difficult. We were doing well with the Couch to 5K program, working steadily each week to gain endurance (but probably not speed). The places we ran were flat, mostly shady, and only occasionally frequented by coyotes.
Birmingham is a different story. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an awesome city, but there are hills everywhere. Everywhere. We haven’t been able to find a good place to run, but David does have a pretty sweet gym membership at his school (and I can come with him for free!). The only problem is, I have an irrational fear of running on treadmills (I’ve seen too many people fall off the back—or I might have just seen one person, but that is still too many!).
When I first found out I was pregnant, I was sick all the time. Every single food sounded terrible and I went days where I could only force down a few crackers. When I did feel like eating, I wanted fried rice or tacos, which are not exactly on the Weight Watchers-friendly list of foods I’d gotten so used to eating.
I actually lost weight in my first trimester, which scared me but is apparently totally normal for those of us who suffer from the super fun morning all-day sickness. The second trimester, however, has been a different story.
It took a while for my bump to pop (I started showing around 20 weeks, but it actually hasn’t totally popped at this point, and I’m a little over 24 weeks now). I had to start wearing maternity clothes right around the new year, which was kind of terrifying but also awesome (I’m basically wearing sweatpants to work, so I’m not complaining). I bought a few things, but I was also lucky enough to have someone loan me several things, so that has been really nice. I think it’s a rite of passage or something to wear lots and lots of stripes during pregnancy, I’m just saying.
Ways to know if someone is pregnant:
She’s wearing a maxi dress or skirt.
It has stripes.
She is in the bathroom.
But I digress. Watching the scale climb has probably been the most anxiety-inducing part of this pregnancy for me. I know, I know, I should be more worried about labor or what life will be like once Jonah is here and we have to take full responsibility for a human life, but I also think I’m still a little bit in denial about all that.
After losing almost sixty pounds in a year and a half, seeing myself gain weight so quickly has really stressed me out. Each time I step on the scale at the doctor’s office, I feel a pit in my stomach and want to just get the heck off that thing as soon as possible.
What happened to the days where I got excited looking at the scale because I was one pound closer to my goal weight? I am so, so happy and excited about having this baby, but I can’t lie and say I don’t miss those days.
Gaining weight is hard. I think it’s hard if you’ve always been thin or if you’ve always been heavy or if you’ve lost a lot of weight or always been the same weight. I don’t think anyone really gets excited about gaining weight, but I am trying to remember why I’m gaining so much.
I’m trying to remember that this sweet baby boy needs the space to grow and thrive inside of me. I’m trying to remember that my body won’t ever be the same again, and that’s a good thing because it will be proof that I worked hard to help my son come into this world.
No, I haven’t eaten the healthiest these past few months as I’ve “eaten for two” a little too literally when I probably shouldn’t have. No, I haven’t chosen the salad when I wanted the chicken sandwich at Chick-fil-a. No, I haven’t gotten off the couch after a long day at work and gone to exercise like I should have. Those things are my fault, and I know I need to take better care of myself and, in turn, our little Jonah. But, just being real, pregnancy is hard, and I think it’s okay to give myself grace during this season.
I know losing weight after having a baby is tough. I know that if I don’t feel like I have time to exercise now, I definitely won’t have more time once Jonah arrives. But I also know that when I set my mind to something, it is very difficult for me to veer off course. I lost a large amount of weight before, and I know I can do it again after sweet Jonah is here. And, in the meantime, I’m going to do my best to be healthy for him and for myself. And if that means saying yes to the chicken sandwich every once in a while, I think that is just fine.