My last few blogs have been about dealing with what a huge shift in identity having a baby gives you. I am still me but a different kind of me, and it takes time to adjust to that.
Whilst coming to terms with this internal shift I’ve been trying on my pre pregnancy jeans every week. Feeling a bit shit each time. I’m still wearing maternity clothes, because my old clothes are just that bit too tight. I’ve been feeling frumpy as fuck. The weight has slowly come off but for a good few weeks I’ve plateaued.
I’m really enjoying the gym at the moment. An hour a few mornings a week before my husband starts work where I get to be by myself and listen to something other than white noise for babies on Spotify.
But sometimes I need to have an extra hour in bed instead. I eat pretty well but I’m also loving actually getting to finally meet other mums and when I do I wanna get a fucking cake with my coffee.
I’m accepting my mental changes and now it’s time to accept the physical changes being a mum gives you. I don’t want to keep feeling shit every time I try those jeans on. I don’t want to turn the me time at the gym into obsessing over how many calories I’ve burnt. I’m a size bigger now, because my body has grown a human being inside of it. So I’ve bought new clothes. Clothes that fit me now. I’m living a healthy happy life, just in a size bigger. And I’m ok with that if it means I can have a guilt free biscuit with my brew and spend Sunday’s in my pjs napping on the sofa with my baby.