Life After Pregnancy and Breastfeeding

After nearly three solid years of having a baby depend on my physiology in some manner, I have my body back. For the first time since March of 2005 I am not pregnant. I am not nursing. I am free.

I got pregnant for the first time in 2005. I wanted to breastfeed because of the benefits I knew I would be giving my daughter. When we decided to have another baby relatively quickly (I know, what were we thinking), I thought we would stand a better chance if I weaned our daughter first. Gradually I stepped back nursing until finally one day I took her to the beach early one morning and nursed her before we watched the sun come up together. It was a moment I will cherish forever.

Now I could focus on getting pregnant again! I figured it would take a while to get my cycles regular again because I'd only had a few and, well, come to think of it, I hadn't had one in a couple weeks. On a whim I took a pregnancy test, and lo an behold I was already pregnant. Although we were excited, I was a little bummed because I didn't get to experience going out and having a few too many with my friends. My body didn't get the 'breather' I was secretly hoping for. I had wanted to start running more miles again, so when I did get pregnant again it wouldn't be so hard to stay fit.

Another nine month pregnancy and ten months of breastfeeding have gone by. I looked at my body today and the difference between three years ago and now is stark. Although I would give up motherhood for anything, I can't say I like the havoc wreaked on my figure by my two little bundles of joy.

The extra calories burned during pregnancy and nursing are proposed to be 300 and 500, respectively. I never took that into account much because I hadn't lost all of the baby weight I'd put on. The last few weeks, as I have decreased feeding sessions with my son I have noticed a weight gain that I am none too happy with.

However, I no longer have excuses for lack of fitness. I have no more Taco Bell cravings, no more swollen feet, and no more full breasts to blame for my lack of running. I celebrated my freedom yesterday with a two mile run that before my pregnancies would have been a waste of my time. It was so hard I felt like I wanted to die. I have a long way to go, and now no one to blame but myself.

I am sad in some ways, but glad in others. On some level I enjoyed being needed by my babies. Now, I no longer am and miss it more than I thought I might.