Your body changes and how!

I had gone to a tailor in my complex to get a couple of blouses done, and she asked me if I had a ‘ measurement ‘ blouse that she could replicate. Nope, none of the old blouses fit me now because I’m much bigger, I found myself saying, with a hint of frustration. And then it started all over again. This ache and longing to get back to my pre pregnancy body, to have a much flatter tummy, to be able to run a 5k without huffing and puffing and giving up midway.

My body has changed in more ways than one would imagine and adjusting to what is now the new normal takes tremendous effort. It helps that I’ve always been a fashion disaster because my wardrobe is full of clothes twice my size; I preferred loose clothes over snug fitted ones as i valued ( and still do) comfort over style, plus hiding food babies is much easier when you wear larger clothes. So while I still fit into most of my pre pregnancy outfits, it’s not the same. Clothes are tighter around the waist and shoulders now, and eight months post partum, my stomach is very prominent, and I feel like I look low key pregnant.

It’s hard to find time to exercise with a baby in tow that one has to manage without ‘the village’. It’s just M and me with D at home, and my day is jam packed with more important things such as nursing D, cleaning her up ( teething poop is the worst and it happens 5-6 times during the day and even in the middle of the night), giving her a bath, making her meals, ensuring she’s well fed, whipping up our meals ( we don’t have a cook), doing and folding laundry, putting D to sleep ( which is definitely a lot of hard work involving bedtime stories and songs from Google Home, among others) and making sure the house has some semblance of order and routine ( slowly giving up on it honestly). It helps that M works from home so we share the load. Coffee is gulped down and is usually cold. Meals are consumed in a hurry. A shower is not more than two minutes long. The newspaper hasn’t been read in days. TV is merely decorative. Books have been lying unread. Self care and grooming ( and I use the word in the loosest possible way) is just down to the basics – brushing and a shower. Who has the time to go to the salon, moisturise and brush hair and all?

So I try and prioritise my day. One some days, I really need extra sleep so I skip the cooking and we order in. Then there are days when I work myself up to a frenzy what with elaborate lunches and ambitious housekeeping projects such as rearranging the kitchen or wardrobes, dusting cupboards etc. For someone like me who can’t stand clutter, it takes a lot of effort into coming to terms with a messy house. My home is happy, full of love and there’s a happy baby on board, so I’m not so obsessive about dust or random things scattered in the living room.

Where does fitness figure in the midst of this beautiful chaos? It does, in the little things. I may not go for a run but I try and eat healthy most of the time. My meal sizes almost doubled after delivery, thanks to constant nursing that leaves me starving sometimes, so trying to pack in more veggies and fibre and less carbs. I try and do some squats and surya namaskars whenever I can, because I enjoy working out at home rather than hitting the gym. But I do these knowing fully well that they’re not going to help me lose tummy flab; that requires more concentrated exercises, but I’m telling myself it’s okay. My body has been through life changing processes and I must respect it, love it and give it all the time in the world to heal. And heal, it does. That’s the amazing thing about our bodies, they are resilient and they’ll do their thing. For now, I’m learning to come to terms with it, eat right, enjoy working out whenever I can and realising that it’s not a compulsion. I don’t have to do something because I should or I can.

I might eventually lose the tummy ( or not) and still may never go back to my pre pregnancy body, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that as long as health and happiness prevail in the home, little else matters. I don’t care about stretch marks, but body weight does bother me sometimes, but on most days, I’m fine with the way things are, and I’m proud for having gone through a complicated delivery ( with two back to back surgeries spanning 90 minutes), surviving the initial weeks of excruciating pain and sleeplessness and having come this far. (Infinitely proud of D for thriving in a hostile fibroid infested uterus and adapting to the new world like a rock star!) This is going to be the new normal from now on, and I’m slowly learning to embrace it and go with the flow. Grateful for this life altering journey that is eye opening in so many ways; really pushes me to be a better person every single day.