Before closing out of this link and joining the afformentioned “I Hate Emily Rozek club, please read to the end.
After the births of both of my children, I dropped my baby weight along with an additional ten pounds in about eight weeks. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe of smaller jeans, and I began ferociously binging on any scraps of food I could get my grabby little hands on…day and night.
I would get the shakes if I didn’t consume massive amount of sour dough bread, 15 inch loaves of French baguettes and mountainous heaps of pasta. My husband asked a few times (before learning better),
“Really? You’re going to eat the whole four cheese pizza and the entire pint of Raspberry truffle Haagen Dazs ?”
He isn’t one to ever question my weight or show concern about my appearance. I think he just would have liked to enjoy a slice or two for himself, or a dollop if the rather pricey ice cream.
“Yup. I’m hungry”, I would answer, diving into a months worth of calories with a fervor.
It was true. I was hungry. All the time. But there was also a sense of giddy mischief like that of sitting at a broken slot machine as it spits out buckets of change before any casino personnel notices.
Why do I share this? Because I want all mothers to unsubscribe and come egg my house? No. Clearly there is more to the story.
Now, after nearly 3 and a half years of being pregnant and/or breastfeeding, with my youngest sort of weaning at 16 months, my time is up. The metabolism authorities have finally been notified of the over-indulgent habits to which I have grown accustom and are charging me…with interest. I have gained ten pounds in one month and have no use whatsoever for a bra other than one suitable for a 13-year-old prepubescent girl. I am slightly concerned about how much more I owe and how quickly I’ll have to pay it.
Although some may argue that I have been lucky, I must politely disagree. Perhaps added pounds serve as a healthy reminder to keep us from getting into the unhealthy habit of eating ridiculous amounts of cheese, bread and ice cream. The invisible havoc wreaked on our bodies by junk food is much worse than what the eye can see. I now have to retrain myself after three years of gluttony!
I believe that this is right around the time some women feel like they have their bodies back and can rip open that pre-pregnancy box of clothes. I guess it’s the same for me.
Only, my pre-pregnancy clothes are three sizes larger than those bought postpartum.
The Jig is up.
All those of you who are wickedly snickering and saying “Good!”…..
I can hear you.