I want to be the woman who can look at my new post-baby body and sigh and smile and love it and accept it. La la la life is beautiful because I have a baby and hey, is that a rainbow over there?
But I’m not.
I suppose I’m shallow that way.
It’s not that I’m aerobicized, pilate-d or yoga-ed–on the contrary. I hate excercising. Almost as much as I hate eating anything that isn’t entirely a carbohydrate. (With the exception of cheese, which is the one substance in the world I could not live without.) But I do admit that now, thirteen months post-baby, my body is starting to again resemble its former self and it makes me happy.
It makes me happy to only have to suck my stomach in half as much as I did before.
It makes me happy that my XL oxfords no longer require the strength of J-Lo quality doublestick tape between the buttons to keep them closed at my bustline.
It makes me happy that I’m starting to acquire some photos of me that I’m not mortified to put in Thalia’s baby album.
It makes me happy to be nearing my pre-baby weight.
So sue me.
(Meanwhile, could someone please explain to me exactly how this new weight distribution works? How is it possible to be the same weight as you once were, only everything about your body is bigger–bigger boobs, bigger hips, bigger belly, bigger arms. What exactly is smaller then? Do my toenails weigh less? Have several pounds worth of bones somehow sloughed off into my system and disintigrated? I’m confounded. )
I recently bought some new clothes to replace the maternity skirts and tees that overstayed their welcome in my closet. I bought some new bras to keep the droopy new (but mercifully smaller) boobs hoisted up to a reasonable half-mast position. I even bought some new thongs. Good ones.
And just as I’m feeling like me again, like a woman who can walk down the street without being entirely obsessed with the size of every single other woman’s ass relative to my own–Nate and I start to have the baby number two talk.
And inside, I freak a little. Just a little.
I was not one of those cute pregnant women that I pass on the streets of New York every day. I did not have chiseled little arms and a tight little butt and a cute little bump. I had the body that made the salesgirl at an overpriced Madison Avenue maternity boutique look me up and down and sneer, “I don’t think we have anything that will fit you here.”
I bought a ridiculously priced black maternity dress just to spite her.
And then, four days later, I made the shameful trek back to Manhattan, back to the dreaded Upper East Side, back to the store, along with my stepmother for moral support, just hoping that that same saleswoman would not be there when I begged them to take it back.
She was there.
I exchanged it for the only item that would fit me: A $200 diaper bag.
Yeah, I showed her.
If it were only the weight that I was worried about now, I would be selfish. Disgusting. One of Those Women. I certainly know there are women who had it worse than me, still have it worse than me, wish they could have the hips that I pour into my Fat Jeans, wish they could have the stomach that hangs over my seat belt in the car. But it’s more than the weight.
I had a pregnancy that–what’s the technical term again? Oh yeah: It sucked.
Besides the sciatica, the nausea, the clumps of hair in the drain, the standard war stories and pregnancy complaints that forever bond us to one another as materniveterans, I had lots and lots of bedrest.
Bedrest, if you haven’t heard, is not fun. Not really. I would not for a second compare it to, say, karaoke night with your best friends or a shopping spree at Bendel’s.
Thanks to a cautious high-risk OB and the threat of cervical incompetence (Hi, your cervix? Yeah, tooootally incompetent. Can’t do its job at all, and considering what we’re paying – well we just might replace it with a cheaper cervix from South America.) I was confined to my home for much of the 41.5 weeks of my pregnancy.
I was sometimes allowed to walk my dog. I was sometimes allowed to walk to the corner deli for lunch. I was sometimes allowed only to walk to the bathroom and back.
Exercise: Not even.
Travel: Verboten.
Sex?
Pfffffft.
Instead I immersed myself in online message boards, in registry research, in reality show reruns I had no business watching. I am far too intimate with Danny Bonaduce’s freckles. I went through the entire third season of The Surreal Life. Twice. But it’s what I could manage from bed.
You could safely say I was depressed.
For the first time in my life, I had no control over this thing that was happening to me. I couldn’t work harder and make it go away. There was no more I could do. What I had to do was less.
I’m not good at doing less. I would not list that as one of my skills on a job interview.
To make matters worse, I had to force gracious responses to well-meaning friends who assured me, it’s for the good of the baby – you want a healthy baby, right? Oh it’s for the baby in the end the baby the baby a healthy baby baby baby baby. Their words had the opposite effect than intended. Because then I felt both shitty and guilty–guilty for wanting my life back when meanwhile, the baby the baby oh the baby.
I felt like an incubator. A fat, depressed, bedridden incubator.
And now, even as I read this, I fear that I sound like an insensitive jerk. Please don’t think I’m an insensitive jerk?
I know there are people who are desperate for a baby, would do anything to have a pregnancy as “easy” as mine was. I know, as Nate reminded me this weekend, that it’s nine months of yuck for a whole lifetime of joy. I know that should I be lucky enough to put the almost 38 year-old ovaries to good use again, that it will of course be worth it. Every minute of the pain, the misery, the weight gain, the sacrifice. There isn’t even a question about that.
But still, I freaked. Just a little.
—–
Edited to add: To clarify, I wasn’t on bedrest the entire pregnancy. It was off and on the entire pregnancy – weeks here, days there. I’ve known those who had it for 7 months straight and their experiences made mine seem like roses and sunshine.
91 shards of brilliance… read them below or add one
Enjoy your non-pregnant body while you have it. It’s nice to revel in your skinny jeans!I can certainly understand about your apprehension with having another baby, especially since you had such a tough pregnancy and you shouldn’t beat yourself up for complaining. Well, at least you know what you’ll be getting yourself into. Good luck with whatever you decide to do.
You have another baby whenever YOU are ready to. With that said, there is nothing wrong with being freaked. I decided once my first was 1 (and once I was finally getting my shape back) that I was ready to start trying for number 2. I got pregnant after having one period of the pill. Once I got pregnant, I freaked. B/c OMG, what have I done. How am I going to love #2 as much as I love #1. Everyone freaks at some point and that’s perfectly normal. My first pregnancy was great other than the fact that I was swollen from head to toe. My second pregnancy I was all baby but being all baby means one hell of a sore back. My point, each pregnancy is different as is each baby. Hopefully once you do decide to get pregnant, it won’t be as bad as your first. Oh, and I wish I could look at my stretch marks and see them as “war wounds” or whatever but I just can’t. I so wish I could, but I can’t. They are totally gross. I’ve wanted to blog about it but am scared of getting hate mail for not loving my body. So, thank you for saying that b/c now I know I’m not the only one. Good luck with #2.
Having a baby is a miracle. And so is losing the fifty-odd pounds I gained.Me, I’m going to enjoy the return of my waistline and not scaring small animals for a little spell longer before #2!
14 months post baby I just bought my first non-nursing bra, DEPRESSING! I feel ya sister. And the whole redistrobution of weight, I have the same issue, I technically weigh 5lbs less than pre-baby, but I am still is pants 2 sizes larger. How is that possible?
I had the worst pregnancy ever!! Not really, but I didn’t enjoy myself. I gained way too much weight, had the worst back/leg/foot pains ever, and was constantly hot and nauseated. If my husband approaches me with the “baby number 2 talk” within the next oh…5 years…I will castrate him.
I don’t know how you manage to look at a topic from so many different angles and do it so coherently!! Whatever hard decision you and Nate derive, we’ll be waiting in the wings to support ya.
Oh wow. I can SO relate. Yeah, you can starve and exercise your way back to your old weight but things just don’t fit anymore. I don’t think you’re shallow at all. When I was close to my due date (I gained 60 pounds total) while boarding a plane, I had a few women make fun of me while they were behind me. They were really loud. I guess they figured fat, pregnant women don’t have feelings. I was mortified. I had been tiny all of my life. And now that I couldn’t exercise for 1hr 15 mins 5 days a week or exist solely upon Lean Cuisines, I gained alot of weight.It took two years to take all but five pounds off. (And 10 of those pounds have come back.) But the thought of having a second baby shortly after that scared the poop out of me. And yesh, your pregnancy sounds really rough. I can see why you’d be more than a bit scared.
i getcha, and my pregnancy was comparatively a piece of cake (mmm, cake). and the body thing? oh yeah. when i was pregnant, i swear my ass knew months before the rest of the body caught up.and now i’m almost back to pre-baby weight, but i’m a lot jigglyer. and #2? scaaaaary. but at least i figure the weight of that one will come off faster since i’ll be chasing after two crazy little things.ok, i’m done. good luck.
Um, the bedrest thing? Is it wrong for that to sound so good to me right now? Laptop. TV. Books. Rest. <>Drool.<>I know, I am pathetic.Take your time with your decision. You’re not insensitive – you also have a little girl to think about now.
It’s already been said here, but each pregnancy really is different – I was on bedrest the first, but none at all the second. And I’ve lost all the baby weight at this point on the “mommy’s too busy servicing the little princes to actually get some food for herself” diet, so that’s not so bad, either (took a couple of years, though, so don’t hate me
).
After 2 weeks with Child in the NICU and 5 weeks in a special care nursery, and no one being able to guarantee that we would have 0% risk of preeclampsia again, we opted for one miracle. Having said that, several people I know who have had a grade F cervix the first time around have had a lovely little stich put in, and baby 2 (and even 3, arrg) have required monitoring and some mild limitations to activities, but no really long lasting and opressive bedrest. The question is … do you want 2? Only answerable by you and your honey …
go for it!
Bed rest would suck, but if it’s any consolation, the 2nd delivery is usually easier. It definetly was for me. The body; it will never be the same again, unless of course you’re Victoria Beckham or Heidi Klum.Good luck with the decision making. It’s not an easy one.
I can’t imagine having to go through ANY bed rest. That must have been so tough.We are starting to talk about baby #2 around my house too and I coincidentally I’m planning a post very similar to this, except instead of bed rest insert horrible morning sickness and a traumatic labor. People say that after you have your baby you forget all about the difficulties of pregnancy and labor, but that wasn’t the case for me. Having #2 is a bit of a scary prospect. Don’t get me wrong, my pregnancy wasn’t that bad compared to some, but it’s never a walk in the park for ANYONE and deciding to surrender 9 months of your life to nurturing a new being (to speak nothing of the next 19 years), well, that’s a big decision!I guess what I mean to say is that you’re most certainly not an “insensitive jerk”. We have a right to get freaked at the prospect of doing it again.Best of luck in your decision!
Funny, I had my comment formed in my mind and then logged on to find 60-some people have already told you much the same thing. But, I’ll continue anyway!
You are not an insensitive jerk, you are freaking hilarious! And I would be just a little freaked too if my first pregnancy had me on my ass for 7 months solid. Oh so not fun. However, as a faithful Mom-101 reader I think you should TOTALY go for baby #2. I think it would make for GREAT blog material. 
Seems I am a little late to this party. Like Rebecca above I had something terribly supportive and witty to say … but its been said a zillion times.You, my friend, are human. I like that
The things we do for our children! The only thing that would fit you: a $200 diaper bag! Love it!
I don’t think it’s insensitive or selfish to not want to feel that way again, even if the end result is something wonderful. I imagine along with all the physical stuff a difficult pregnancy brings, the emotional stuff is just exhausting. As someone who will have the dreaded Advanced Maternal Age stamped on her medical file, I can understand why you worry. The older we get, the harder this is even for women who have done it already. I wish you the best in making the decision for number two. I don’t think your reservations are out of place in the least.
Ummm, yeah! I can’t complain about my pregnancy or my baby, yet the thought of adults no longer outnumbering ankle-biters sends me into full blown-head-banging-against-the-wall freak-out mode. Haven’t really come up with an explanation for my reaction (as I run screaming rather than sit down to try to figure it out!), it just is what it is. Best wishes, whatever the finaly outcome is. You’re an amazing mother… 1, 2 or how many times over it works out to be!
You sound so very normal. It’s sad that pregnant women are now subjected to the same old crap in the beauty department. Pregnant teens with their bellies proudly showing under halter tops and hip riding jeans are the new standard. With belly button rings no less.Yes, they’re beautiful. But there is more than one sort of beauty in the world.
-nodding and waving my hands-See, this is what I’m talking about. I’m being held hostage by my own demise as we had an oops moment a week ago. Could I be pregnant? Do I want to be. Ugh. Just when my clothes start to fit again (a whole 23 months later), I’m worried about going through that again.I had pre-eclampsia and 8 weeks of bedrest which I could not stand.How do we do it? We really are super moms. I think we are!
I’ll be the one to tell you that having only one child has its upside too, should you fail to get over your freak.
you are smart to remember. I forgot. And yesterday was the first day in 15 weeks that I didn’t want to vomit in random trashcans or on random people. It was better for me to not remember. But, on the flip side, I’m feeling better. Just LOVVVING pregnancy.
ooooh! you know I am there with you–having all the same ambivalence about it. And I know you’ll end up putting those shrivelled ovaries to good use again. And now you have US, so bedrest would be beneficial to US. Ha!thongs? you filthy girl. could never get on with ‘em myself. (eyes pathetically “functional” underwear draw, scratches boob)
I don’t blame you for not jumping around and cheering at the suggestion. Give yourself a bit longer to enjoy not being pregnant or breastfeeding and then, who knows, maybe it’ll be better next time around – hope so, it’s great having more than one, but not the be all and end all.
i didn’t even consider #2 until i had my post baby #1 body for one complete year after i had lost all the weight (well, *almost* all the weight!). it took so long to feel back to my old self that i wanted to really enjoy it! but the whole “i’m the same weight but it’s distributed differently” thing…drives me batty.
I’d have my freak all in a tizzy, too! I remember the “second baby” talk. Freaky, indeed.I was excited for my second baby…but after having three babies in 5 years…I felt like a prisoner in my own body. And I hear you…it is nice to start to feel like your body is your own again. Tummy hangin’ over the seatbelt…and all!Well, I’m not so happy about having to roll my breasts up like burritos just to get them into my bra…but that is over-shadowed by the joy of motherhood, right?
Oh you are NOT a jerk! Or, if you are, I am an even bigger jerk!
I felt the same about my second. Weight gain, repeating everything that sucked about the first. You’re not a jerk, just normal. BUt I would get a second opinion next time RE: your OB and bed rest, because, well, seems extreme to me.BTW. It did suck the seccond time too, but I survived, and I’m on my third. (NUTS! I know)
You know I’m at 17 months with my son and I still freak at the next pregnancy talks/thoughts/late periods, whatever. You’re not insensitive at all. I also had a rough, crappy pregnancy that I’ve been told will be repeated for the next one. And you know what freaks me out more than repeating that god-awful experience? The fact that I will have to take care of my son while I’m pregnant… and the fear that I will be a horrible caregiver – because it’s really hard to be a good caregiver when you’re lying around like a beached whale. (A big, incompetent, type-A-workaholic-trapped-inside a beached whale.) You know?And you know there is nothing nothing nothing wrong with wanting to feel attractive, pretty, or sexy. It’s not shallow. It’s human. I don’t know why people have such as issue with that.
Thank you everyone. Deepy. Truly.It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
I’m having the opposite problem–I’m ready (heck, more than ready) to start trying for a second child, but my husband’s not there yet, and I’m scared that he might not want another at all. So I’m readying myself for one of those “we need to talk” moments. Ugh.
Yea, if you figure out how that whole weight ditribution thing works, let me in….cause I can’t for the life of me figure it out. Yea, your not alone. I had a good pregnancy and it still freaks me out. I look in the mirror and say…this is what ONE baby did to me, what is ANOTHER ONE gonna do? And I’m only 5 lbs away from prepregoo weight!
Oh, you are *so* not alone. I’m on my second right now, on bedrest, and surviving in part by reading you! Thanks, and good luck with your decision.S
I have really enjoyed your blog. So nice to see someone else who hasn’t lost her sense of humor to motherhood. Honesty becomes you.Just to play devil’s advocate, every year north of 30 DOUBLES your chance of having twins! So the theory here is that if you get pregnant again, have an ultrasound before 30 weeks, otherwise it does come as one hell of a shock at that late date. *whistles an innocent tune*Not that I would know that by experience *cough*…Twins or not, pregnancies are very different and you cannot predict what will happen. I would like to second the opinion of another gal that you might want to look at a different OB though. Looks like your spacing would be better than mine 18 months apart and then 13 mintues lol. Good luck with your decision and remember, the more kids you procreate the less time you have to fornicate! ; )
I still have a good ten lbs to go still from baby #2 but I do recall the weird weight distribution after TQ. I got back down to my pre-baby weight but certain things never, ever fit again. I don’t understand it either.
I’m from South Dakota and I can tell you first hand that you *don’t* want to be mistaken for a “Nebraskan”
You’re so honest and I love it. I can admit to you that when I found out I was pregnant with this little surprise, one of my first thoughts was about how I had just gotten my pre-preg body back and now… THIS.You are not alone. But you know this already. (see above)
Oh, I am so glad I found you. You’re hilarious and know exactly how I feel! I am back to pre-pregnancy weight but look nothing like I did before. And to think, before, I was unhappy with my body…I’d kill to have it now!Now if only my boss would leave my office so I could continue reading in peace…
I’m frightened of another pregnancy, too, though not b/c of the bedrest; just the twenty weeks of nightmare-quality physical incapacitation. I vomited daily for TWENTY weeks. (when I wasn’t vomiting, I was wishing I could.) I don’t know if I can go through that again, *and* handle a toddler simultaneously. *shivers*
Ack! You poor thing! Bedrest is NO FUN. I’ve been on it on and off for much of my second pregnancy already now, and I am amazed that you did it for the whole time without losing your mind. You must be a strong woman to do that!Remember, though, every pregnancy is different, and there’s no guarantee that you’d have to do that again. Particularly if you can get the stitch (ahem). A good friend had that done this time and says that her second pregnancy has just whiiiiiiiiiized on by and been a breeze compared to her first. Hurrah!And Lildb, I had horrible nasty awful morning sickness my first time, for the first 5 months (then, after 2 days of bliss, I got heartburn for the remaining 4), and this time, I’ve had aversions, but no vomiting yet! Again, Hurrah!