The Battle Against the Bulge

And no, I'm not talking about bulging diapers. Although, that can be a battle all in itself. Of course, many times, this mom is so anxious to get her little man out of his diapers, he pees mid-change anyway. I've never had someone pee on my hand as much as this little guy. Thank God this hand works as a great shield.

But I digress.

I'm talking about my weight. And yes, I know that there's plenty of time for me to lose it. Several people say, "9 months on, 9 months off!" and "your body has changed, it takes awhile to get back to normal."

Well, damnit, I want it back to normal.

I can successful squeeeeeeeze myself into one pair of pre-preggo shorts. And no, I will not go out in public in them. But I can do it.

There are a handful of skirts that I can get around my huge hips. Thank God for my love of empire-waist dresses, as those are coming in handy right about now.

I still have to wear REAL underwear because I'm still "leaking." I hate panty lines and even the underwear that "swear" against panty lines still create them. And no, I'm not buying sizes that are too small...

Well, maybe I am? But again, I digress.

So I weight 175. One hundred. Seventy-five. Pounds. Holy crap! I thought I'd never see the day! Some people still ask me if I'm pregnant. Really? Really? Screw you and the horse you rode in on!!!

I've been counting my calories (though being very careful not to overdo since I'm breastfeeding and have been battling to get my milk supply up), and I've been trying to get out and walk walk walk. When it's nice. And not hot. And I'm not sweating all over the place.

My husband is incredibly sweet and says, "You still do it for me, babe!" Yeah...too bad I don't feel the same way about my body.

My vagina is still incredibly sore, requiring baths both in the morning and at night, and "rinsing" after using the bathroom, plus the "pain spray" after every pee.It's annoying.

The one good thing from this weight is that my boobs are FANTASTIC!! I mean, fantastic. I have always wanted bigger boobs and now I have them.

However, not a whole lot of my shirts fit because of the gigantic boobs. But that, I can deal with.

In all of this, I gripe, I moan, I feel sorry for myself. When really, I need to remember that I'm "fat" because I had a "baby." Yeah, a baby. Who cries. Sometimes a lot. But he's awesome in the end. He's 5 weeks old and we're still going strong. I still love being a mom, I still feel important and at the end of the day, we love looking at each other. Just looking.

And cuddling in the mornings. My favorite part of the day because he's wide awake and we can hang out and he coo's at me.

I love it all, even with the added weight of everything. Pun intended.