Check in

Today I weighed in at 156. I’m pleasantly surprised given that I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine throughout the week, BUT I did amp up my cardio AND I’ve been careful to monitor my meal portions. I even had fast food but kept it lite with a grilled chicken sandwich of which I didn’t eat the top bread. Also no fries and no coke!

This last week and a half I did longer and more intense cardio. I was consistent in weight training (lite weights) and I also Pilates. Pilates really surprised me. I tried Pilates once before and I thought it was too easy and I didn’t feel like it did anything for my body. I recently took 3 private Pilates classes and learned the technique and what it can do for my body. In just 3 sessions I’m more flexible, I feel longer and my post pregnancy abs feels stronger. I’m going to continue Pilates at home thanks to Exercise on Demand.

I’m 6 pounds away from reaching my short-term goal and my pre-pregnancy weight and then a shoppin' I go.

Flashing Lights

We’ve recently started using a baby monitor for Olive when we’re in a different room than she. It not only lets us hear her, but there are also lights on the device that allows us to see the intensity of the sound coming from her end in the event the sound in our room masks her monster noises. The more lights, the louder her sounds. During the night, we usually keep the monitor on my side since I’m the feeding machine who must feed the hungry monster when she awakens. I see lights. I (or hubby) run to get her. I feed. No more lights on the baby monitor since she’s now in my room being fed, right? Um, no. A couple of times I’ve had the crap scared out of me because I’m feeding the monster when all of a sudden there are flashing lights and sounds coming from the baby monitor. There is no baby in the room with the speaker. No music or TV on. Just a room with zero humans in it. Now, I’m not afraid of the dark, but when I see those flashing lights as Olive is chowing down next to me in my room, I am briefly afraid of what is in the dark in that room. What is making the monitor go off!? My heart thumps faster for a moment and I try to concentrate on the monster in my room. She is awfully adorable as she kicks her legs out while she’s eating. She’s done and I burp her and come to realize I have to go into the room, where it is dark and the flashing lights and noises are coming from. Holy hell. I’m an adult for crying out loud, but yet I’m wide-eyed and walking slowing towards the dark scared like a 10 year old girl. I hold my breath, put the monster down to sleep and swiftly walk out of there back to safety in my own, warm bed. This is ridiculous of me. I laugh to myself and start heading back to sleep and realize that I just left my baby in the dark room where the flashing lights and the noises were coming from. I hope this event is no indication of what kind of mom I’m going to be.

The Boob Goes Public

Any new mother that breastfeeds or anyone who has experienced a mother's feeding schedule will know that it is a 24/7 job. She is consumed with feeding. Consumed with keeping track of the clock for the feeding schedule. Consumed with figuring out what to do with her time until the next feeding. Everything revolves around feeding. Any planning, any event, task or errand I want to run must be run by the feeding schedule. For example, immediately after a feeding, I have 2-3 hours to do whatever I want. Shop, shower, pick at ripe pimples…whatever. This seems like plenty of time, but there’s the changing of diapers and getting her to settle down to allow me to do those things, which boils down to about 1 hour of time for me to do what I want. This usually includes brushing my teeth, washing my face, throwing away the diapers I left on the dresser over night and fixing something to eat…though she usually awakens before I can put the second bite in my mouth. Getting out of the house is a little more difficult. With all the heavy gear, driving to the destination, setting up the stroller and such, I have one hour-ish left to do what it was I wanted to do out of the house and then get back to the house to feed before she goes ballistic. So, this really leaves me with 30-ish minutes of real out of the house time depending on what part of town I have to drive to. I try to stay as close as possible.

Ok, this sounds like I’m bitching, but I’m merely telling you how it is. Truth is…I love the fact that I can provide this wonderful gift to my daughter. I feel honored and blessed to give and do this for her. There are so many benefits and I would do it again with my next child (oh boy, there I go again with the second child thing. Simmer down, Claudia). I’ve just got to find a way to have a life while breastfeeding. I think I broke that barrier this past weekend.

Sunday we spent most of our time at the house doing housework. It was a beautiful day and hubby and I were itching to get out of the house by the late afternoon. We decided to start getting ready to leave and then reality struck…She’s due to eat in the next hour and a half, which means we might as well stay until she feeds since we wanted to go to stores and get something to eat. That’s more than 1.5 hours of activity. Screw that! I was settled on leaving the house. I told myself…Self, if she gets hungry…I’ll figure something out. We can always come home when she starts screaming bloody murder. So we left and went straight to eat. Ten minutes into the dining experience, there she goes screaming. For crying out loud! We just ordered…we’re 20 minutes from home...WTF do I do? I looked in my diaper bag and after the pacifier failed, I pulled out the boob cover. I’m going to breastfeed this little monster in public. It had to be done! I never imagined how my first public feeding would be, but I never thought it would be at BJ’s Restaurant while hubby is having a beer and while everyone is already starring at us because of the monster cries. So, I whip it out, stuff her mouth and no more crying! VICTORY! Except that everybody is still staring! I mean, I remember looking at mothers feeding in public with admiration, but I don’t remember staring. Or did I stare? I mean…I guess…how could you not look or stare at the chance you’ll see a boob? Well, I kept on feeding her. Through the stares…through the uncomfortable position…and even after the food arrived. I did it! This is huge for me. It was empowering and I felt like I got a little piece of my old life back now that I can to do this public feeding thing just in case I was out doing regular people stuff.

Folks starred during the entire feeding and I didn’t even care. Kids stared, the waitress stared, and old people stared. They were all hoping to get a glimpse. But I was on top of the world and no stare could stop me now. After the monster finished eating, I put the boob back in place and ordered myself a cocktail to celebrate. Cheers to me and my boob.

Good Stuff/Bad Stuff

First, the bad stuff. The Powers that Be must be angry with me. At an early morning feeding today, as I was pulling my boob out for Olive, I noticed some redness on the right side of my lower stomach. I knew instantly what it was and I felt a lump in my throat. I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Whimper. Instant tear. Stretch marks. WTF! I spent my entire pregnancy oiling up my stomach and made it through the 9 months without them. How in the hell do you get stretch marks after birth?! I'm not gaining weight or getting bigger! I’m getting smaller for crying out loud. Call me vain but this, along with having pregnancy complications, was my biggest fear (next time around hemorrhoids will be included with those fears. I can't believe I just said "next time"). This is so upsetting for me and I'm just boggled...and saddened by it. I don't know what else to say about this. Just. Sad.

Now the good stuff. After sobbing for a couple of minutes because of the red squiggly lines now featured on my stomach right next to my not so small and not so light birthmark, Olive and I spent our first rainy day by ourselves together. After her very early morning feeding, I failed at attempting to put her in the rocker so I could get 10 more minutes of sleep (hey! I need those extra minutes to muster up the courage to get up and face the day). She cried. I picked her up and brought her to bed with me (Bad Claudia). She proceeded to nestle her head under my chin and cuddle up with her stretch-mark stomached mommy. We listened to the rain and thunder and felt the flash of lightening on our faces. We listened to each other breathe our deep sleep breaths (she obviously got the loud breathing from me) and we laid there for an extra 2 hours. I had enough courage to take on the next two days. She was consoling me and I knew right then that she loved me.

Wow...Breastfeeding is awesome

I weighed in last night and to my surprise, I met my goal weight of 159.5. I don’t know how to explain it after a horrible week of eating. All I can think of is that breastfeeding must have burned some major calories. I should have eaten that cookie after all! I have 9.5 pounds left to reach my short term goal, which should be easy to achieve over the next four weeks since I’ll start training for a sprint triathlon next week. I’ll have six weeks to train so it’s not much time, but I’m excited to get back into shape.

Over the next two weeks, I’m going to attempt to eat mighty healthy. There are some friends coming into town then and they’ve rented a party boat on Lake Travis as a pre-wedding event (oh crap! I’ve got to fit into a dress by June 20th). I will in no way be in a swim suit, but I’d like to be as tone and as small as I possibly can get in two weeks time. I’m expecting to lose 4-5 pounds by then, which will put me at 155ish. My menu will hopefully include lean meats, veggies, small amount of grains and skim milk. Easier said than done. It’s kinda hard to fix a healthy meal with a baby at my boob. Wish me luck.

Dodging the Scale

What's better than weigh in details?...pics of Olive. My cutie pie monster Olive. I know I've eaten bad for the last five days, so I'm not weighing in today. I'll muster up the courage tomorrow.

This picture was taken a couple of days after birth. She was nice and milk drunk, which is how I was able to get her to lay without crying on an itchy, sheddy white rug. She's going to look at this one day and shake her head in disbelief that I took this. I just had to, Olive. BTW, your little hand by your chin was all you. Love you.

Again, milk drunk and havin a hoppy day on Easter. Sorry again, Olive.

A great friend of mine made the cutest stuffed monster for my cute monster. Here, they're napping together in the swing.

Olive is no cheap date

I now know how men feel when then pull out all the stops with the flowers, dinner, chocolates and chivalrous gestures…all this to get into a girl’s pants…all this and it’s not even guaranteed that you will get any. There is one girl I’m trying to get into bed. Actually, make that two girls. Olive and me. During the night, I feed Olive twice and I pray and hope that during those feedings, she doesn’t shit up her back and cause a scene with onesie changing and such and wake up the hubby (I hate to have to wake up hubby in the middle of the night). I also pray and hope that she eats, burps and goes right back to sleep. She usually goes down like a champ after a feeding. Not the case this last week. Here are what the last several days have been like for at least 1 of her 2 night feedings. She feeds, she burps and I put her back down to sleep. Monster noises ensue…a few grunts, maybe the hiccups and after 15 minutes of not allowing me to go back to sleep, she whines and half-ass cries. The woman needs to go back to sleep if she wants me to be sane the next day. So, I pick her up. I sway her. I rock her. I sing to her, hum, stroke her beautiful face, keep her warm against my body and let her hear the deep breaths from my chest. And then when I think she’s fallen asleep, I put her down and quietly crawl back into bed. Victory! So I think. The grunts begin just seconds after getting comfortable and my stomach knots up. I let her be. Maybe she’s just trying to get comfortable. More monster noises, more movements and there goes the whining again. I instantly feel defeated. I just spent 20 back-breaking minutes trying to put her to sleep…and that’s after the 20 minute feeding we just sat through. I pick her up and after another 20 wrist-numbing minutes swaying her in the bathroom with the vent on (she likes the noise), she’s off to La La land. I’m finally able to put her down and go back to sleep for an hour or so before I (daddy too) perform this routine again. Is this karma? Is it because I never let those guys get into my pants even though they gave me a mum the size of my now boobs for the Homecoming Dance? (Sorry Keith, but I just wasn’t that into you) If it’s karma I hope that when Olive is a mom, she too will have a baby that will not go right back to sleep after a night feeding. Daddy would like that very much.

Bad Claudia

I had Sonic for lunch and Texadelphia (cheesesteaks) for dinner yesterday...and a hamburger and fries for lunch today. I may also join my amigas for happy hour this evening, which means chips and salsa and a large, extra-strong margarita are in store for dinner. This is not going to get me back to the weight I want to be. I've got to make better decisions...starting after the margaritas :)

I weighed myself this morning and I felt like I was on the Biggest Loser for a split second. The numbers on my digital scale jumped forwards and backwards and I was relieved to see that the number landed in the 150's...and then...at the very last second, the number changed one last time. Boo! Maybe I'll reach my goal at next weigh in.

Weight today: 161.5
Goal for next week: 159.5
What I'm treating myself to when I reach 150: Buy new workout clothes, running shoes and under garments. I'll also allow myself to start looking and thinking about buying a new wardrobe.

Cry Babies - Part 2

I’m banking today will be better than yesterday. I don’t know if baby monster had a tummy ache or was bored out of her mind, but I’m glad I was the only person to hear the shrills that came out of Olive’s mouth. It just wasn’t right. Having an inconsolable baby cry all day while being home alone could cause any new mom to cry too…right? The only thing that saved me that day and night were the 20 minute feedings and the 10-15 minute drunken state following the feeding that kept Olive from crying. I’m sure it’s wrong to feed a baby every time she’s crying like crazy…but at least I waited 2 hours in between each feeding (Olive, I’m sorry if I’m setting you up for obesity here).

I now realize that writing about how my body currently looks like puff pastry that has been forked should not be the only topic I post about. There are other issues…parenting, baby, crying issues that are far more important right now for me to get off my chest. It’s not all cute, wonderful, lovely baby smells PEOPLE! Folks attempted to warm me: Get your sleep now. It’s a different world, but so wonderful. Congratulations. Yadda yadda. Why didn’t these people tell me the truth? Crying every day, all day for 2 weeks straight is not wonderful, folks. I don’t wish the tears, pain and blood that I experienced those first two weeks on anyone. Week 3-4 got somewhat better…me crying 3 times a week opposed to everyday is better. She still won’t look at me and it seems like she cries only when I hold her. Does she hate me? All the crying made me wonder if I was going through postpartum depression. I think it’s a term that’s tossed around at the sight of a crying mother...so let’s look it up. Symptoms of postpartum depression include weepiness or sadness. Check. Change in appetite. Check. Moodiness and irritability. Check and check! Withdrawal from family and friends. Check. Suicidal, scary, or constant negative thoughts. Negative on this one unless imagining Wile E Coyote dropping a boulder on my head counts. In order to be diagnosed with this condition, I should be feeling this way passed the 2 week mark, which I’m not. I definitely have my appetite back. :)

I don’t know if I’ll ever go into details about the first two weeks other than what I’ve described in previous posts. If I get comments wanting more details, I may recount. I’m in week 4 and things have gotten better, but there are days like yesterday that make me wonder what the hell I’m doing…and why. Don’t get me all wrong. I love Olivia. She means the world to me and I KNOW things will get better. I know there are folks out there that would give anything to have a baby and may be cursing me for all the bitching I’m doing here. But it’s just the truth. Not just my truth. Other mothers have counted their stories to me. I know they’ve felt the same or worse having gone through this experience. This is real stuff, People…and not the airbrushed, scripted or fake version of what people try to tell or show you. Let it out mothers! It’s ok that you can’t cook dinner, make the baby stop crying, keep from getting shit all over the place, run errands and have a sexy good time with your husband all at once. If you can, congratu-fucking-lations…now go make me a cocktail.

For those of you expecting or trying…Good luck or Congratulations! It’s a different, wonderful world, but get your sleep and just know….it’s going to suck extra hard in the beginning.

Gotta tend to the crying baby now...Just Olive this time.

Cry Babies - Part 1

There were two crying babies in the house today and the second one's name rhymes with Shaudia. It was a bad day. There have been worse, but I honestly considered going back to work early after today's episode. I don't even have the strength to go into detail at the moment as I sit hear feeding the baby monster. Perhaps tomorrow.

Cottage Cheese Sexy

I took a good look at myself in the mirror today after a shower...a real good look. It might have been too early to stare at myself in the mirror like that...to see every new bump and dimple I've gained through my pregnancy. I've got a lot of work to get my body back in shape and it's not going to be easy. I won't be able to exert myself like I usually do by working out 5-6 times for 2 hours each session and eating just enough calories I need to stay healthy and energized. Now I need to eat a good amount of calories, 1800-ish at least, to maintain a good supply of breast milk and at that rate, it's going to take much longer than I'd like to get to my initial goal weight of 145 pounds by end of August. But after looking in the mirror, I don't care how much weight I lose...I just want the bumps and dimples to go away...with the quickness!

I will definitely be happy if I reach my goal weight, but I've added two more goals for this journey. (1) Decrease bumps and dimples...dramatically. (2) Love what I got until I reach the other two goals. I've got more hips now, which makes my waist look smaller..AND breasts bigger. That doesn't sound disastrous. I’m going to rock the hell out of these curves while I still got ‘em. :)

Pounds Shmounds

Ok, technically I gained 45 lbs during pregnancy, but I'm not counting 10 of those lbs. I lost 10 lbs a month prior to getting pregnant due to a summer vacation trip that required I live in a bathing suit for 7 days. I slaved hard to lose those 10 lbs and could in no way sustain the workouts or limited caloric intake long-term and remain a happy person in order to keep those lbs off...so...they don't count. :)

I weighed 184 the day before I gave birth. A week after birth, I lost 15 lbs and another 5 lbs by two weeks most likely due to shedding of water weight and decreased appetite and calorie intake. I’m sure breastfeeding also played a part in the weight loss. I haven’t done much to get back into shape yet. The nurse did suggest I begin to do small crunches soon after birth...so I took the opportunity and did plank and ab exercises starting a week postpartum.

It’s been three weeks postpartum today and I’m down to 162. It’s been nice to have the scale decrease on a daily basis, but the cheese on my butt is making me want to kick it in high gear…pronto!