Post baby body. Oh yeah now that’s sexy. Not.

Almost as soon as the squid was born (when the glorious epidural had worn off) I was amazed at how much my body could endure. I had incredibly empowering thoughts about what I had been through and held a woman’s ability to carry a child to the highest degree. Walrussing for months, aching, sweating, growing and pushing all those annoying internal organs out of the way to create a special little. I may have been high on all those crazy hormones that had been going off like fire crackers all through my body, but the pride and admiration I had for my body was pretty dang big.

It stayed that way for about 24hrs, partly because one of my favorite parts of staying in hospital was learning that things were getting back to normal. By that I mean, I could do a real wee for the first time in months. Not a quick dash to the loo, only to re visit it half an hour later. But a real wee. Anyone who’s had a baby will be able to relate, its heaven. So the pride in my body grew.

That was until  I got to have a real shower. It must have been day 3 (I was hooked up to all sorts of things for the first couple of days so only got to hand wash). I hadn’t really prepared myself for what I saw. When the hell did I eat all that pudding? Nope sorry, must be a 4 day old half deflated balloon? Or is it a dead pig? A giant wrinkly mushroom? WHAT? Its my BELLY? Luckily there was a beautiful tiny human to distract me from the horror of my newly achieved body status. So the issue of jelleh belleh got put on the back burner.

I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight about 3 weeks after Indi was born. By pre-pregnancy I mean the weight that I wasn’t really happy with prior to getting pregnant. Proud that I had got there, still not super happy with what my stomach was doing or with the number in general. I also began to fall in love with cake, and boredom encouraged me to bake (read the story here). Its here where I added ‘cake weight’ to my already not so glamorous number.

I feel its my responsibility to warn all preggos around the world that post baby, everyone will want to ‘catch up’ with you. This will no doubt include a cuppa and cake. At about 2 people per week, times that by four months, it equals 34 pieces of cake (real number will be much bigger, trust me). If you end up having a c-section or a rough labor, exercise is at a minimal. Hence the term cake weight. So deliciously worth it, but so much harder to get rid of.

Lets just re cap.

A not so fabulous number to begin + post pregnancy body + cake weight = a hell of a challenge to a woman who is allergic to running and hasn’t stopped eating since she gave birth 5 months ago.

And so I begun my ‘body’ challenge.

I signed up for the 12wbt.


We threw out all the bad things in the fridge, freezer and cupboard. Brought exercise dvds, weights, mats and new runners. Looked up classes at the gym and planned what we could fit in with the tiny human. We were gonna do this HARD, not chicken out. It was game on in our house, and poor Aidan didn’t have a choice but to go along with yet another one of my crazy plans.

*Side note, he might have been dragged into to it, but the boy is doing better than me. Brought his first pair of skinny jeans this week. He is looking gooooooood!!
Pt 2 coming soon

Much love peeps xx