Learning to Love my Body, Again

I'll be honest guys. The first three months after having a baby I would look at my body and cry. I would try not to look at it, not to think about it. I knew I was fat and ugly and pudgy and saggy everywhere, and it pissed me off. I worked SO HARD before getting pregnant. I was down 25 pounds, I could do a plank for almost three minutes and I was fitting in my size 8 pants again. I had never felt better.

Now I look like I am three months pregnant, I am wearing a size 14 and everything sags.

I am not here to tell you it is worth it. I am not here to tell you that, in the wake of my adorable little boy and his beautiful smile that everything is bliss and happy rainbows and that my stretch marks don't make me die a little inside every time I see them.

I also don't want to you think I am exaggerating, so here is a picture.

It took a lot to post this pictures. Also, my husband took it while holding a baby on my iPhone, so yeah, it isn't the best. But it's raw. And real. And I am almost crying looking at it.

I exercised all through my pregnancy. I gained a total of 50 pounds, and lost a whopping 30 pounds at birth. I birthed a 10 pound 6oz human. I didn't exercise for 6 weeks after having him. I started after my checkup determined to change my body. I exercised for 6 weeks and didn't notice a single thing changing (I am sure things did) and in a bout of depression I quit. I gained 12 pounds and my feelings about my body plummeted even further.  

Yesterday, 5 months postpartum, laying in bed I finally realized that I don't like my body. I am not comfortable in it. I really want it to change. I know I need to actively work towards that change. I feel so stuck, so trapped through. I thought nursing would help me lose weight. I thought I would have energy to feed myself veggies and not binge on pizza because I am starving and my baby is clingy and my husband is home late and I am just done with the day.

Today I realized it's okay not to like my body. It's okay to hate it. It's okay. My body is not who I am. I mean, physically it is. But beyond my tangible features, who God created me to be is so much more than my body.

Knowing this still does not help me not cry at night.

Knowing this still does not help me feel terrible when my clothes don't fit.

Knowing this still does not help when kind people ask me when I am due. (LITERALLY)

Knowing this does not help.

But maybe it is a start.

I really want to exercise. I want to try and change my body if I can. I want to actively work on shrinking my midsection and I want to lose weight. Mostly I want to feel like ME agian.

I know I am not my body. But I can't help but feel like I am.

Confessions of a new mom.